


You'll Get Yours

by ozzyj



Category: Major Crimes (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mystery, Romance, Suspense, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:57:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 52,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2735105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozzyj/pseuds/ozzyj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A case from Captain Raydor's past - threatens to destroy her present. (Sharon/Andy UST - set at the end of season 1)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Special Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Mellow_Mel for being a fabulous Beta :). 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Major Crimes – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.

You'll Get Yours - Chapter 1

"Rusty?" Sharon called down the hallway in the direction of the boy's bedroom as she fastened the clasp on a silver hooped earing. "Would you come out here a minute?"

"What is it?" Rusty yelled back in typical teenage fashion.

"If you come here you'll find out," she retorted, resting her hand on the back of the burnt-orange coloured armchair so she could slip her stocking clad feet into a pair of black Manolos Blahniks.

"Fine," she heard him huff as his bedroom door flew open. He careened down the hall, tucking his pale blue school shirt into his pants as he walked, "but just so you know - I was gonna put that plate in the dish washer once I…"

He stopped short when he caught a glimpse of a decoratively wrapped box sitting in the centre of the coffee table.

"W…what is that?" Rusty pointed to the ambiguous item, a frown creasing his brow.

"Ummm what does it look like? " Sharon said sarcastically through a smirk, buttoning the front of her blazer - before crossing her arms at her chest.

"It looks like a gift."

She looked over her shoulder at the package. "You know what? It does look like a gift." She brought her gaze back to meet his - smiling broadly. "Happy Birthday, Rusty."

"For me?" The young man's eyebrows retreated under his floppy blonde hair, as he gestured towards his chest with a thumb.

"It is your birthday today, isn't it?"

"Well yeah, but I never talked about it…I,"

"You think I'd forget a thing like that?"

"Well my mom…" Rusty shrugged dismissively and looked to the floor. "…never mind."

Sharon offered him a tight, knowing smile and swiftly moved the conversation on. "So, are you going to open it?"

He brought his gaze back up to meet hers; grinning boyishly. "Can I?"

"Go ahead," she stepped aside and Rusty rushed to the table, making short work of the stripy wrapping paper – his eyes wide with excitement.

Sharon grabbed her blue trench-coat from a hook by the door as she watched him; it warmed her to see him so genuinely happy. Since his emancipation from Daniel Dunn, Rusty was going from strength to strength. He was now truly putting his past behind him; agreeing to meet with a councillor and recently he had even been talking about colleges.

He deserved a treat.

"No way!" Rusty exclaimed; looking back at Sharon - beaming.

"Is it the right one? Julio informs me that it's the best for online gaming and I…oh…" Sharon was taken aback when the young man leapt to his feet and threw his arms around her waist; gripping her in a fierce hug – as if it was the most natural thing to do in the world. - and yet it wasn't. Familial affection was still very new to their relationship, but Sharon relaxed quickly - returning the gesture and giving him a tight squeeze; assuring Rusty that his reaction to her gift was completely acceptable.

When he pulled back, shoving his hands in his pockets - he looked at his shoes; clearly embarrassed by his outburst. "Thanks, Sharon," he muttered. "You're the best…"

"Good to know," she said good humouredly, before taking hold of his shoulders and spinning him around to face his bedroom. "Now go - get ready for school."

"But it's my birthday," he protested weakly, moving forward at a snail's pace.

"Go on," she shooed him out of the sitting room, "and we've still got time to iron that shirt you're wearing."

He stopped walking and looked down at the crumpled garment, before turning back to face her "but I'm wearing a jacket."

Sharon raised her eyebrows and eyed him over the top of her glasses, "All day?"

"Fine," he said with an exaggerated eye roll and skulked off to his room to get ready – but not before poking his head back out of the door and adding - "thanks, Sharon."

She smiled warmly at him."You're welcome, Rusty."

xXx

Twenty minutes later (which was five minutes longer than Sharon was happy with), they were ready to leave. Rusty lead the way as Sharon grabbed her keys from the phone table and followed closely behind; but when the boy stopped dead in his tracks and bent to collect something from the doormat - Sharon almost ran right into the back of him.

"Rusty, what are you doing?" She asked exasperatedly, "we're going to be…" her sentence trailed off when she noticed the large red envelope he clasped in his hand. "What's that?"

Rusty turned the envelope over in his hand, inspecting what appeared to be a greeting card – but it wasn't for him. "And I thought it was my birthday." He handed it to Sharon, "here, it's addressed you."

"To me?" She frowned as she accepted the proffered envelope, running a detective's eye over the mysterious delivery for some kind of clue as to who it might be from; there was no postage paid – it had to have been hand delivered.

"Don't tell me you like, got me the most awesome gift in the world and I've gone and missed your birthday?" Rusty asked; concern evident in his tone.

"What?" She met his eyes briefly before returning her attention to the envelope. "No…it's not my birthday for another month…"

It appeared to Rusty in that moment, that Sharon had paled somewhat. "So…are you going to open it?" He asked the obvious question.

"Yes," Sharon said decisively as she snapped her gaze up to meet his and passed him the car keys. "You go ahead and meet me in the parking garage."

"Okay…" Rusty drew the word out as he took the keys; signifying his bewilderment. They were already running late for school – this would make them even later; she was exhibiting very un-Sharon like behaviour.

"Go, Rusty," Sharon said more sternly this time – using her best 'mother tone'. "I'll be down in just a minute."

"Fine." He conceded and turned on his heel; as he wandered down the corridor Sharon closed the door softly behind him.

xXx

As he pressed the button and waited for the elevator to arrive, Rusty found himself wondering if in fact - Sharon had herself a secret admirer.

'The envelope was red; Valentines cards come in red envelopes don't they?'

Even though Valentines Day wasn't for another few months, a sinking feeling began to form in the pit of the young man's gut; the thought of a man coming into their lives resurfaced anxieties from his past.

'If Sharon had a man in her life, would she still want me around? My mom didn't…'

xXx

Sharon was rooted to the spot by the front door. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, as shaky hands began to open the glued-down flap on the red envelope.

'It can't be from him…' she told herself in an effort to calm her nerves – but when she removed the card from its paper confines her worst fears were confirmed.

'Not again…It can't be…he's behind bars…' 

In slow motion she watched the card fall to the floor. She reached out to grab the edge of the nearby phone table for support; her stomach flipped and her head swam as Sharon experienced the onset of her first panic attack in almost fifteen years.

'The card was hand delivered…'

She slowly sank to her knees and closed her eyes tightly – breathing deeply and slowly in an effort to regain control and fight off the burgeoning wave of nausea that threatened to take hold.

Minutes passed and Sharon began to calm; the panic now subsiding, she opened her eyes and stared wide-eyed at the item on the floor before her.

Inside the greeting card, decorated with a cute picture of a kitten on the front, was a lone scrawled message; a single sentence that Sharon Raydor had read many times before…

'You'll get yours, Bitch.'

TBC

Thanks for reading

As always, any comments are welcomed – I don't bite and I will respond ;)!


	2. The Victim

It was 15 minutes before Sharon arrived in the parking garage. She quietly opened the driver's door to her silver Hyundai Genesis and slid into the seat - without so much as a glance in Rusty's direction.

Silently, she put the car into reverse - before steering them out onto the streets of LA.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sharon could feel Rusty watching her. She wanted to speak to him, to put on a brave face – to act normal; but it had taken everything she had to simply leave her apartment.

'When was the card delivered? Was the sender still in the building? How the hell did they get past security?'

Rusty cleared his throat and Sharon tensed; if he asked her what was wrong, she may crack.

xXx

Rusty nibbled on his lower lip, bouncing his right leg on the ball of his foot nervously as he eyed his caregiver with suspicion.

Sharon had been working a lot recently; it was a rarity for her to be home in the morning to drive him to school. When she did, ordinarily the drive would be filled with chatter about his impending school day; she would pester him about homework and tease him about girls.

He pretended to hate it - but in truth, he treasured those mornings; they made him feel like family.

In that moment - all Rusty felt was uncomfortable.

Sharon appeared a little pale - her jaw was tense and she gripped at the steering wheel tightly with both hands.

'What the hell was in that envelope?'

He cleared his throat, but before he could verbalise the question - it was Sharon that broke the silence; "Rusty, I want you to come to the station right after school." She kept her eyes on the road.

"But Sharon, why?" Rusty wailed, the suspicious envelope instantly forgotten in the face of not being able to use his birthday gift immediately. "I wanted to set up my PlayStation and…"

"No buts, Rusty." She said firmly, as they pulled up at some lights. "You will come to the station, and we will go home together; understood?" This time she did look at him, glaring at the young man from behind her dark rimmed spectacles.

"Fine." Rusty huffed defeatedly - crossing his arms at his chest and looking out of the window. "Happy birthday, Rusty."

xXx

Sharon marched purposefully through the foyer of HQ; her gaze focussed on the elevators dead ahead. She clutched her purse tightly to her chest; a red envelope lay in its leather confines - the contents of which weighed heavily on her mind.

'You'll get yours, bitch.'

Even after all these years, those words cut straight to her heart.

In her mind's eye, Sharon replayed the night she had first heard them – how they were yelled angrily across Detective Banston's front yard.

It was an empty threat; words spoken in the heat of the moment - but even though it happened almost twenty years ago, she remembered it vividly.

The Banston case should have ended with the detective's arrest - and for several years, Sharon thought it had.

That was until she received her first envelope.

"Testing your powers of telekinesis, Captain?" Sharon started as a familiar voice dragged her into the present; she glanced over her shoulder to see Lieutenant Andy Flynn standing closely behind.

"Andy," She greeted him with flatly, but as he reached around to press the elevator button he leaned in a little closer and Sharon took a step to the side - slightly flustered by his proximity.

He didn't seem to notice; "in my experience, elevators come quicker if you actually call them."

"Sorry, I…" Sharon felt herself blushing, not something the poker-faced Captain often did. "I'm a little distracted this morning..."

"Oh," Andy rocked back on his heels and clasped his hands in front of him; watching the elevator light up numbers as it descended to ground level. "Everything alright?"

"Everything is fine, Lieutenant." The elevator reached ground level and with a 'ping' and the doors slowly opened.

Sharon was the first to board, ensuring that this time - she remembered to hit the button.

As the metal doors slid closed, she could feel Andy's eyes on her.

xXx

"We just caught a case!" Without raising his head to face his superior officer, Lieutenant Louis Provenza waved a white sheet of paper in the air – he had instantly recognised the gait of the Wicked Witch approaching; her heels clipping rhythmically on the linoleum. "Hollywood division just sent this over…"

"Can I at least have my coffee first?"

Provenza, was not expecting the reply to come from Flynn; he glanced up to see his partner in crime approaching with Raydor; "you can get it to go…" the elder detective held up his own coffee flask "mines milk and one."

"Yes, your Highness." Andy quipped, taking the proffered flask and signalling to Sharon, "You want?"

"No - thank you…" She set her purse down heavily on Sykes's empty desk and gripped the leather handle; a new case was the last thing Sharon needed right now. "Good morning, Lieutenant Provenza, Julio…is everybody else here?"

"Morning ma'am," Detective Sanchez looked up from his monitor. "Buzz and Sykes are in the break-room and Tao's on his way. Did Rusty like his gift?"

"He did," Sharon nodded and offered him a tight smile. "Thank you for your help, Julio."

As she removed her trench coat, she turned to her most experienced detective, "Lieutenant Provenza, gather the team – get Mike on conference – you can brief us before we leave."

"Aye Aye Captain," Provenza reached for the phone.

Sharon threaded her coat through the handles of her handbag and watched him make the call; the sooner this case was solved - the better.

xXx

"Our victim's name is Jessica Ardell; 19 years old – found dead early this morning at an address on La Messa."

"Nice!" Sykes eyebrows' retreated to her hairline; that was an affluent part of town. "Rich kid?"

"No Sykes," Provenza answered the younger detective in his usual disparaging tone, "…our victim was an assistant to TV actress, Amber Moore."

'Something's definitely off with the Captain,' Andy was distracted by Sharon pacing the office as she listened to Provenza's briefing.

The pacing in itself wasn't strange; the Captain often walked the floor – it was part of her process.

What didn't sit right with Andy - was her lack of reaction to the victim.

Jessica was young.

Having spent years working Homicide, Flynn had developed a second skin when it came to dealing with most violent crimes; it wasn't an impervious skin, but having spent almost her entire career in Internal Affairs - Captain Raydor was a little more sensitive.

To Andy's trained eye; it was obvious that kids were her weakness.

It wasn't a huge tell – the Captain most likely didn't even realise that she had one…but she always flinched. And for the briefest of moments, it was written all over her face; 'what if that was my child?'

He had first noticed it back when the Chief still running the unit, and Raydor was just poking around in a case.

Truthfully, this type of reaction wasn't so unusual for an officer with kids of her own; Andy wouldn't have paid much attention - if it hadn't gone completely in the face of Raydor's 'ice queen' reputation.

That contradiction intrigued him.

Now, working with her every day and listening to Rusty divulge snippets of their home life together, 'Sharon' had started to seep through the small cracks in the Captain's armour.

She may not be as tough as she made out, but she was always focused at work.

Right now, as Andy watched her pacing backwards and forwards – a frown creasing her brow – he wasn't watching Captain Raydor; he was looking at Sharon, which meant that something was definitely off.

"Amber who?" The question dragged Andy from his thoughts and back into the room, where he was met with a questioning gaze from Amy Sykes.

At Andy's shrug, Amy's eyes moved quickly around the team for an answer, until assistance came from an unexpected source.

"Amber Moore," Tao offered over loud speaker. "She plays the part of Pricilla Davies on Days. Her character actually went blind from shock when she found her twin sister Sasha – whom she also played – in bed with her fiancé, Marco."

Provenza rocked back in his chair and rolled his eyes as the rest of the team stifled their smiles – everyone but Sharon, who had stopped wearing a hole in the floor and was gesturing impatiently for the briefing to continue.

"Lieutenant Tao," Provenza continued, scowling at Raydor, "thank you so much for that detailed insight into the world of the soap opera." He rested his forearms on his desk and clasped his hands in front of him, "Miss Ardell, was found face down in the hall way to the stars home; Hollywood division got a call early this morning when the actress found our victim in a pool of blood. Miss Ardell's throat had been slashed – no murder weapon was recovered at the scene – no signs of forced entry."

"This actress have an alibi?" Sanchez enquired.

"Apparently, she was at a party."

Sharon crossed her arms at her waist. "Lieutenant Tao - where are you right now?"

"On the interstate – should I head right over to the scene?"

"Yes do – the team will meet you there; Lieutenant Provenza will give you the address." Sharon grabbed her purse and trench from Sykes desk and began the retreat to her office. "Oh and Lieutenant Provenza," She called over her shoulder, "can you text me the address, also?"

At his puzzled expression she continued.

"I will be meeting you at the scene," She said stoically, "there is something I need to do before I leave."

As Sharon shut the door to her office, Andy got to his feet and approached Provenza's desk, "she seem okay to you?"

"What? Raydor? Let's see…she's uptight, she's bossy…." He frowned for affect. "Nope – she seems perfectly fine to me."

Andy wasn't so convinced; his gaze drifted to the glass walls of Raydor's office - just in time to see her snap the blinds shut.

xXx

In the comfort and privacy of her own office, Sharon removed the envelope from her purse and sat it on the desk.

She felt sick.

The letter was evidence; she was breaking the rules.

Inhaling deeply, she switched on her monitor and navigated the computer to Google; finding what she required – she picked up the handset to her phone, punching in a number.

The line rang twice before someone answered; "Ridgewater Psychiatric Hosptial, how can I direct your call?"

"Good morning, my name is Captain Sharon Raydor…"

TBC

Thanks for reading!


	3. The Scene

"Please take a seat, Miss Moore." Lieutenant Flynn led the scantily clad soap actress towards a plush, red fabric couch - littered with black scatter cushions. "Can we get you anything? A glass of water perhaps?"

"No, thank you…" Amber More pushed a shaking hand through her immaculately coiffed blonde locks as she lowered herself to perch on the designer sofa; her glittery boob-tube mini dress creeping up her toned thighs as she sat. "Maybe something stronger," she added with a weak smile.

"I'm on it," Sykes nodded and moved swiftly to the glass fronted drinks cabinet that stood centrally to a small bar.

"This must be difficult…" Andy placed his hands on his hips and began the all-too-familiar dance of putting the bereft at ease; empathising enough to earn their trust, yet surreptitiously feeding them with questions to determine whether or not they were in fact, a suspect.

"I can't believe it…" Amber shook her head; her golden waves brushing against her naked shoulders. "I just spoke with Jess last night; she was in the kitchen getting a snack and…" The actress gestured to the kitchen and then behind her to the body covered with a white sheet. "… I just came in this morning and…..and she was…" The rest of the sentence was muffled by the hand that Amber raised to her mouth – to catch the sobs that shook her slight frame.

Sykes returned with a drink and sat on the couch; draping a comforting arm around the smaller woman's trembling shoulders as she handed the glass to Flynn. The Lieutenant accepted the beverage from the detective's fingers and crouching at the feet of the weeping woman, he offered her the glass tumbler. "I understand how upsetting this is; but if there is anything that you can think of that might help our investigation…"

Amber readily took the proffered alcohol – sipping the dark liquid and grimacing as the scotch burnt her parched throat. "I…I…don't know…I…like what?"

"Did Jess have any enemies? Had she had any arguments with family members, or friends? A boyfriend perhaps?"

"No," this time Amber shook her head firmly. "No, Jess was from back east – she didn't really know anyone in LA…She hadn't worked with me for very long…Oh God! Has anyone told her mother?" The young woman burst into tears once more; twisting towards Sykes and pressing her heavily made-up face into the detectives shoulder.

A voiceless exchange occurred between the two detectives; as Flynn got to his feet and backed away from the two women, he heard Sykes pick up the line of questioning.

"It's okay Amber," She soothed, "How long had Jess worked for you, exactly?"

As the Lieutenant turned and walked towards the kitchen, he looked at his watch; they'd been at the scene for almost an hour. As he raised his gaze, Lieutenant Provenza caught his eye; they were both wondering the same thing…

'Where the hell is Captain Raydor?'

xXx

"Damn it!" Sharon fumed; slamming the phone onto its cradle.

It wasn't him; Ian Banston was still a patient at Ridgewater Psychiatric – and according to his doctor - still very much insane.

The revelation that her life wasn't in immediate danger should have been a comfort to Sharon – yet now, her mind was filled with a different form of unease.

'If it isn't Ian Banston…Then who is it?'

Something else occurred to Sharon in that moment - something that she desperately tried to push to the back of her mind…

Sharon Raydor; former head of FID, decorated Captain of the LAPD and self-acknowledged goody two shoes – had removed evidence from a crime scene.

She shifted her gaze from the phone on the desk to the adjacent chair where her handbag lay; the vessel for said evidence. She nibbled her lower lip; since her involvement with the Banston case, Sharon's rank and responsibility within the LAPD had increased – as had the need to maintain her spotless reputation.

The Banston case was messy; and what followed - was the first time and the very last time that Sharon Raydor failed to exactly follow the rules.

"Until now." She spoke aloud as she eyed the red envelope poking out of the top of her purse.

Old timers such as Provenza and Flynn would certainly remember the case – but probably not the particulars. Relatively speaking, Sharon Raydor was 'a nobody' in the LAPD back then; her involvement wouldn't have turned heads, the way it most certainly would now.

It wasn't as if she was hiding anything; information on the Banston case was right there in her file…if anyone ever bothered to read it...

Sharon sat up straighter in her chair; 'Maybe someone has read it.'

It made perfect sense; someone within the LAPD had read her file and was trying to rattle her.

Working in internal affairs, Captain Raydor had made her fair share of enemies - though she wondered if this had more to do with her 'promotion' to the head of Major Crimes than an investigation into a rouge officer. As Taylor had so frankly informed her; 'every captain in the department would leap at the chance to replace her' - many of which, Sharon suspected, didn't think that she deserved the position in the first place.

Anyone who read her file would know just how difficult a case it had been for her; how she had spent the best part of two months in fear for her life – of her children's lives.

Determinedly, Sharon got to her feet and straightened out her suit; she knew exactly what she had to do.

"Absolutely nothing." She voiced to the empty room, as she purposefully strode around her desk and hoisted her purse onto the shoulder.

Whether they were an officer pissed at being investigated, or a petty Captain that felt they had been overlooked for promotion – a reaction from 'the ice queen' was exactly what they would want. Privately, Sharon may have been affect by the message in the card - but Captain Raydor would remain, as always - unflappable.

xXx

"Captain Raydor, " Provenza greeted his superior – his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence."

"I had an appointment, Lieutenant," Sharon lied as she approached him. "Was I wrong to assume that a Lieutenant of your calibre could handle running a crime scene without me?"

Provenza narrowed his eyes and somebody in the room sniggered – Sharon was unsure who, as she focussed squarely on her Lieutenant.

"You were not." After a few beats, Provenza was the first to look away - pulling a note pad from the inside of his jacket pocket ad flipping it open. "In fact – we're almost done."

"Excellent." Sharon stood tall and her lips curled at the corners in an almost-smile. "Can somebody please bring me up to speed?"

"Sanchez," Provenza barked.

"Ma'am," Detective Sanchez stepped forward and addressed Sharon with a nod of his head. "From what we can gather, the victim's throat was slashed from behind as she moved towards the door. She's not wearing shoes or carrying car keys or a purse – the TV was on - so it's fair to assume that she was going to answer the door."

"Thank you Detective Sanchez," Sharon crossed her arms at her chest and dropped her hip, "Luitenant Tao, is the blood spatter conducive to that chain of events?"

"Yes Captain. The blood spatter trajectory suggests that her throat was cut from left to right, probably from behind. My guess is that bruising will form across her upper chest or jaw from where she would have been grabbed and held in place."

Tao lifted the white sheet and Sharon grimaced – tilting her head to one side as she took in the sight before her. The young woman's body was face down on the marble entrance way – blood had pooled around her head and a smear led from underneath blonde matted locks and along the pale arm that was stretched out ahead of her.

"She tried to crawl away?"

"Possibly...But I think that this blood-smear here," Tao crouched next to the body and pointed with his pen to the woman's outstretched arm, "suggests that she dropped to her knees, grabbing her throat, before she collapsed forwards and stretched the same arm out to soften her fall."

Sharon nodded, absorbing the evidence as Tao performed the victim's perceived movements.

"And Amber Moore," Sharon turned her attention to Flynn, "Did she return to the house alone?"

"She did, Captain," Andy nodded, and looked down at his notepad. "Amber arrived home at a quarter after 6; the door was unlocked which was in her words 'the first sign that something was wrong'. She found Jessica in the hallway and called the police right away."

"Alright. Good work gentlemen. Where is Miss Moore now?"

"Sykes is with her through there," Flynn gestured with his arm. "She seems pretty shook up."

Provenza huffed behind them and all four detectives turned to face the wise Luitenant; "Either that, or she's a fine actress."

xXx

"Amber Moore?" Andy watched as Sharon strode over to the young woman being comforted by Detective Sykes on the expensive couch. "I'm Captain Sharon Raydor…I'm so sorry for your loss."

It appeared to the Lieutenant, that his Captain was more focussed than earlier that morning - yet she still carried a tenseness in her shoulders; a tenseness that was visible, even through her tailored suit jacket.

Something was definitely wrong.

'Should I ask her if she's okay?

Truthfully, Andy wasn't sure how she would react if he did. Sharon Raydor wasn't his friend; they were colleagues – he was her subordinate.

'You would have asked Chief Johnson.'

But Sharon Raydor wasn't Brenda Leigh Johnson; she was more reserved with her emotions...more private.

Andy wasn't entirely sure when he'd started to catalogue Sharon's behavioural traits…

'It's only natural – we spend so much time together at work.'

He didn't know when he'd started caring so much about how she was feeling – it had just happened.

'I don't spend as much time analysing Skyes behaviour…'

As Sharon bent at the waist in front of the actress, resting her hands on her own knees - Andy realised there was something else that he had been doing more of recently; his gaze had zoned in on the Captains shapely behind.

'Look away, man…'

Of course, he had appreciated her physique in the past; Sharon Rayor's legs, for example, had been the topic of many a conversation amongst male detectives over the years. Andy always thought that the Captain's aloof personality actually fuelled those 'locker-room' type conversations.

But back then, Captain Raydor was just their nemesis; she was nothing but The Wicked Witch or 'that bitch from FID. But now…

'Now it's different…'

Andy found himself still staring at the Captain when he was also presented with a barely clothed, Hollywood, 20-something starlet.

'Snap out of it!' He mentally shook himself, 'she's your boss!' 

He closed his eyes tightly and took a cleansing breath.

'Keep your eyes on the actress and your mind on the job.' Thankfully, Amber Moore's next words allowed him to do just that.

"I've seen you before."

Sharon was taken aback and to Andy's relief, stood up straight; "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"No Ma'am," Amber shook her head, "No, I saw you on TV. You were doing some kind of press interview or something about a gang shooting?"

"Oh that," Even though the Captain had her back to him, Andy knew that she was cringing. In Taylor's absence (food poisoning, apparently) Chief Pope had pushed Sharon into speaking with the press about a case they had solved.

"That was months ago! I'm surprised you even recognise me!"

Amber shrugged, weakly; "I've got a thing for faces."

"Miss Moore," Sharon pressed on with business. "Would you be comfortable with joining us at the station - to record your version of events?"

"Of course," Amber sniffed, "Anything I can do to help." She got to her feet and looked down – as if only now realising her attire, "is it okay if I get changed first?"

"Absolutely,"

"I'll go with her," Sykes offered, and followed the young actress up the stairs.

Sharon turned on her heel and strode towards the rest of the team who had gathered by the entrance to the kitchen – Flynn followed closely behind.

"Lieutenant Provenza," Sharon rested her hands on her hips as she addressed him. "I trust you and Detective Tao can finish up here?"

"Yes Ma'am," Provenza agreed, "But keep a lid on the science, alright Mike?"

"Buzz," Sharon continued, "have you got everything you need?"

"Yes, Captain." He answered, affectionately tapping his video recorder.

"Great, let's get back to headquarters and interview Miss Moore. Lieutenant Flynn?"

Sharon spun to face him; the fruity smell of her shampoo filling his nostrils.

"Yes, Captain?" Andy choked, clearing his throat – the bizarre reaction raising a frown from Provenza.

"Miss Moore can ride with Sykes and Sanchez. Will you accompany me back to the station?"

"Yes Captain," Andy swallowed hard; his gaze flicking from Sharon's eyes, to her lips, then back to her eyes again. "Not a problem,"

'What the hell is wrong with me today?'

xXx

From a distance, someone watched.

They saw Captain Sharon Raydor, dressed in her perfect little skirt-suit - pretending not to care that her past was back to haunt her.

Apparently, the card wasn't enough of a reminder…

TBC

Phew – that was hard. Writing detectivey type stuff hurts my brain!


	4. Back at the office...

An uncomfortable silence filled the vehicle; at least Andy found it uncomfortable, considering the newly borne interest he had in his boss. Ordinarily, he wasn't one to be lost for words – however at that moment in time…he genuinely couldn't think of anything smart to say.

It was as if his vocabulary had been reduced to that of an anxious teenage boy, forced to partner up in science class with the head cheerleader.

But Andy Flynn hadn't lived that life; he had dated the head cheerleader in high school - women had never made him nervous.

'It must be her rank,' he concluded.

Sharon pulled up at a set of lights and the sound of the indicator clicking broke the quiet, but Andy was unsure if the noise detracted from the awkwardness or added to the tension - being that it sounded like the rhythmical ticking of a clock.

'Man, it's hot in here.' 

Andy loosened his tie and reached for the air-con dial, but the ever astute Sharon - quick to read his tie loosening as an indication the he needed cool air, reached for the dial at the same time - their hands bumping in mid-air.

"Sorry…" Andy mumbled - snatching his treacherous hand away and bringing it back to the safe confines of his own lap.

"No problem," Sharon responded in her ever-cool tone, as she twisted the dial to the fifth notch and returned her hand to the steering wheel. "It is so hot today."

"Too damned hot." Andy agreed, as he looked out of the window at nothing in particular.

A few long moments later, the ticking of the indicator stopped - Sharon turned the corner and finally, Andy found his voice.

"So - you taking Rusty anywhere for his birthday?"

"Well," Sharon narrowed her eyes and glanced over her shoulder before overtaking the car in front. "I'm not sure he'll want to go anywhere; I bought him a Playstation."

"Ah," Andy bobbed his head in recognition.

"Something tells me I will be spending tonight watching him shoot aliens or zombies, or something else just as unpleasant."

"Boy's will be boys…Julio helped you pick it out?"

"He did," Sharon nodded, "thankfully," she spared Andy a glance, her lips quirking into a lopsided smile. "Since my kids grew up and left home – I'm a little out of touch with what's cool."

Andy chuckled, deep in his throat; "Can't relate," he shrugged and a flicked his wrist; "Provenza and I are still totally down with the kids."

Sharon barked a short laugh – catching it with a hum. "Oh totally," she agreed with mock-seriousness, as she wound down the window and collected her ticket for the parking lot.

xXx

"Miss Moore," Sharon greeted the young woman with a tight smile as she arrived in the murder room. "Thank you very much for agreeing to come down here so quickly. Detective Sykes, please could you show our guest to Interview Room 1?"

"Captain," Sykes nodded and dutifully ushered the now more conservatively dressed actress down the corridor.

"Detective Sanchez, did Miss Moore offer us any more information en-route?"

"No ma'am. – she was pretty much silent the whole way…She did stop outside to sign an autograph though."

Andy scoffed, "wouldn't want to disappoint the fans."

"Okay," Sharon chipped in, "Buzz, Detective Sanchez – "she pointed towards the media room, "eyes and ears. Lieutenant Flynn – you're with me."

xXx

The detectives entered the interview room; Andy placed a glass of water in front of their guest and Sharon closed the door behind them.

"Thank you for agreeing to speak with us, Miss Moore," Sharon reiterated as she took a seat at the table, placing her note pad and pen neatly in front of her. "I can't even begin to imagine how you must be feeling right now."

"I feel a little lost," the girl shrugged and clutched at the glass of water with both hands. "I just can't believe it, you know. It's surreal."

Sharon nodded, "Tell me Amber, we're you and Jessica very close?"

"We were," Amber sniffed and released her grip on the glass to push an errant strand of thick blonde hair behind her ear. "She was like the little sister I never had, you know. I'd let her share my clothes…we'd talk about boys…"

"So, not your standard employee / employer relationship then?" Andy asked flatly.

"I guess not," Amber shook her head softly. "I felt sorry for Jess – a bit protective maybe…Being so far away from home in a big city…I know what it feels like to be alone." The actresses blue eyes clouded over with sadness and to Sharon, in that moment the young woman seemed much older than her years.

"That's a hell of a job for someone so young; PA to a Hollywood celebrity," Andy pressed on with the interview. "She can't have had much experience…"

"Oh she had none." At the confused looks from the detectives, Amber continued. "I recruited Jess through a viral internet campaign - to raise my profile as an actress, "she waved her hand in front of her. "It was all Franco's idea…"

"Franco?" Sharon asked - her pen poised to write.

"Franco DeSalve – he's my agent. He's a total genius…"

"Franco DeSalve," Sharon nodded as she scribbled down the name on her notepad, "A viral internet campaign you say?"

"Yeah," Amber shifted to lean back in the chair, appearing more relaxed than a moment ago. "We ran a series of videos on my website - - where I auditioned a group of hopefuls to be my PA. I set them challenges, and every week one was eliminated."

"Like a reality show?" Andy asked, frowning.

"Exactly like a reality show," Amber nodded, "but just on line."

"Do you have to be a member to view these videos – or can anyone vote?" Sharon asked as she continued to make notes.

"Anyone – that's kinda the point. I've already got fans from my soap opera work – I wanted to attract new ones."

The detectives shared a knowing glance before Andy continued. "Amber, the runner up to this prize - she a sore looser?"

"He." Amber corrected Lieutenant Flynn, and Sharon fought a smile at Andy's inadvertent slip into chauvinism. "The runner up was a man – James Wang."

"Sorry - he." Andy quickly corrected himself and Sharon was sure that she observed the slightest blush colour his cheeks. "James Wang – how did he react to losing?"

"Really well, actually. He was totally supportive – I think they are still friends…or a least they were…"

xXx

The door to the media room opened quietly and Provenza and Tao joined Sanches, Sykes and Buzz at the desk.

"We miss anything good?" Provenza asked, taking an empty seat next to Sykes.

"Only that Jessica Ardell was recruited through an internet reality show." Buzz informed the Lieutenants.

"Oh god," Provenza rolled his eyes. "This is going to be a long day."

"Our suspect list has just increased to include the whole of the goddamned world," Sanchez agreed with his superior - slamming his cell phone on to the desk. "Damn it!"

xXx

"Ok people," Sharon paced the space between the desks in the murder room, hands on hips as she addressed her team. Amber Moore had returned to her Hollywood home – but true to form, the Major Crimes division had been investigating the actress's story long before she had even left the building. "What have we got?"

"Well," Provenza leant back on his chair, languidly waving his pen in the air. "The internet reality show shortens our list of suspects to just about every whack-job in the United States."

"You're right - it does," Sharon turned on her heel to face the rest of the team. "But realistically, what are our best options?"

"James Wang keeps a blog, Captain," Sykes twisted her monitor to show the other detectives. "He made some gushy congrats statement when his BFF Jessica won the PA role – but there had to be some hard feelings, right? He's local too - I'm tracking him down as we speak."

"Very good, Detective Sykes. Let me know once you have him – see if he will come in for questioning. Do we have anything else?"

"Franco DeSalve," Luitenant Flynn offered, "a.k.a Howard Francis Workman. Agent to the stars; he has priors for assault."

"Against who?" Sharon frowned

"A former client; apparently he got a little handsy with her. He didn't like the rejection."

Sharon narrowed her eyes and hummed as Sanchez placed a photo of DeSalve on the murder board. "He sounds delightful; bring him in. Anything else?"

"Amber Moore." Lieutenant Tao spoke up.

Sharon whipped around to face him, "I thought her story checked out?"

"It does," he nodded, "but only just."

Sharon cocked her head to one side, "What do you mean?"

"Core temperature checks of her liver, put Jessica's time death at approximately 10pm. Amber arrived at the party at about 10:30pm. The location of the party was about 20 minutes away."

"That would mean that she killed Jessica and left to go to the part right away," Provenza said incredulously, "that's cold."

"Not necessarily. As you know, core temp checks aren't always that accurate when determining time of death. From the time of death the body loses about 1.5 degrees per hour, until the temperature of the body is the same as the environment around it. But Amber's air conditioning in that part of the house was set by a timer that switched off around midnight, and then turned back on around seven this morning."

"So the estimated time of her death, could be out somewhat?" Sharon asked the obvious question.

"We won't know for sure until Morales has conducted the post-mortem."

"Do we have anything new from the crime scene?"

"Not yet, Captain. We still haven't located a murder weapon."

"Okay, thank you Mike." She turned again to address the rest of the detectives. "Did we find anything odd in her recent history – friends, family, boyfriends?"

"We're looking into it," Provenza re-joined the conversation. "We hacked her face book account – spoke to her family…but nothing untoward came up. Jessica just seemed like a normal girl, who'd got her first big break."

"Alright." Sharon nodded firmly and sighed as she watched Sanchez add the photograph of the young actress to the murder board, just below the photograph of Jessica Ardell. Something about the photographs struck her in an instant; "they look very similar, wouldn't you say?"

"What? Jessica and Amber?" Lieutenant Provenza got to his feet and came to stand next to her in front of the board.

"Yes. Similar build, same hair colour and style…didn't Amber say that she let Jessica wear her clothes?"

"I see where you're going with his – you're thinking that maybe Jessica wasn't the intended victim here?"

"That's right, Lieutenant. Maybe our intended victim was Amber."

xXx

Several hours later, the murder room was quiet with most of the team out on errands - and Sharon had retreated to her office.

Andy sat at his desk sifting through the Hollywood division police report on 'Agent to the Stars' Franco DeSalve's assault charge, for the second time that day. Not surprisingly the creep was being a little evasive; he was currently on a flight to Vegas – where he would be promptly met at the airport by Las Vegas PD.

Regardless of whether the intended victim was the actress or her PA – considering his history, Mr DeSalve seemed like the most likely candidate.

The sound of a door opening distracted Andy from his tedium. "Hey, birthday boy!" He got to his feet with a smile, and approached Rusty. "How's it going?"

He outstretched an arm to ruffle the young man's hair, but Rusty skilfully avoided him - playfully swatting the hand away. "I'm good, thanks." He smiled shyly - Rusty was still getting used to people giving a damn; with his mom, birthdays were just another excuse to get drunk. "Erm, is Sharon around?"

"Yeah, she's in her office," he nodded towards the closed door. "Go on in."

The teenager took a tentative step towards Sharon's office, before turning back to look at Andy. "She in a better mood than this morning?"

Andy frowned as he returned to sit at his desk; he knew that something had been wrong with Sharon this morning when she arrived at work. "I know, she had a face like thunder when she arrived this morning," he played along. "What was all that about? Things okay at home?"

"Yeah, they're good but…I don't know…one minute she is fine and the next, she gets this letter or card or something and it's like she totally changed."

"Letter?"

"Yeah, or a card. It was left outside our apartment - I asked her who it was from but she wouldn't say…"

"On your doormat? Not in your mailbox?"

"Yeah, I know – weird right? Anyway, she says I've got to hang out here after school instead of going home to play on my PS3 – but it's my birthday, you know?" He whined, "I don't want to spend it here with you guys…" He held up his hand hands, "…no offence."

"None taken, kid," Andy mumbled as his gaze drifted to observe his superior through the open blinds that dressed the windows of her office.

xXx

Sharon's apartment was just as the intruder had imagined.

'A place for everything and everything in its place.' 

Even with a teenage boy sharing her living space, the ever anal Sharon Raydor's apartment looked like a show home.

Expensive furniture, collector's artwork – it appeared that she had a fondness for the ballet.

'Snooty bitch.'

The only item that stuck out as not belonging in the space was a games console; still boxed it sat atop the coffee table next to a birthday card.

"How sweet," the intruder's words were laced with the bitterness of a lost childhood.

They turned sharply and moved swiftly through the apartment, careful not to disturb anything; that was until they reached their destination - Sharon's bedroom.

xXx

The team had returned from their various locations and left for home already – once again leaving Andy alone.

James Wang had turned out to be a dead end and without the post-mortem results, their best bet at the moment was the Agent - DeSalve, who was still on the plane to Vegas.

Sharon had sent a sulking Rusty to an interview room to finish his homework, whilst she finished up and Andy…Andy was just hanging around in the hopes of getting to the bottom of Sharon's mood.

The fact that she had received a hand delivered card – was what really worried him. It meant that whoever it was from, either lived in the building or were able to bypass security somehow.

Her insistence that Rusty come to the station from work and not to straight to the apartment, was also a little odd.

Of late, the teenager had been trusted to go straight home – as long as he checked in regularly; he was still a witness in a murder investigation after all.

'Is the letter Sharon received - threatening to Rusty in some way?' 

The door to the interview room opened dragging Andy from his anxieties; Rusty emerged, looking bored and a little dishevelled. "I'm just going to get a soda – you want one?"

"No thanks, kid."

"Me neither – it just gives me something to do," he mumbled as he skulked past Andy's desk.

"I was under the impression that you had homework?" Both Andy and Rusty raised their gazes to meet Sharon's – neither of them had heard her enter the room.

"But it's my birthday, Sharon..."

"And don't we all know it?" She smiled teasingly and leant against the door frame, "Get your things, honey - I'm ready to leave."

"Yes!" Sharon didn't have to tell the boy twice; he was in and out of the interview room in a flash.

"Did you even unpack your books?" She arched her eyebrow at Rusty as he flung his rucksack over his shoulder and walked towards her.

"Of course," He nodded firmly, offering her an innocent smile.

"Hmmm," Sharon narrowed her eyes.

"How about I take you guys out for dinner?" Andy interrupted their familial banter, getting to his feet and pulling on a grey suit jacket that had been hanging over the back of his chair. At the questioning looks from both of his invitees he continued; "it's your birthday – you should celebrate… And Captain, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten anything since this morning."

As if on cue Sharon's stomach rumbled; "that's very sweet of you, Andy - but…"

"Sound's great!" Rusty piped up, a grin plastering his boyish face.

Sharon looked at the young man, wide eyed, "I thought you wanted to get home to play on your computer?"

"I do." He nodded eagerly, "so how about pizza at our place?"

"Rusty," Sharon appeared to be flustered by the suggestion; this was a sight Andy had never seen. "I don't think that Lieutenant Flynn would want to…"

"I'll tell you what, kid," Andy interrupted Sharon before she could protest, "we get Chinese takeout, and you've got yourself a deal." He turned to look at Sharon, who appeared slightly taken back by their exchange, "as long as that's alright with you, Captain?"

TBC

I know…another bloody cliff-hanger! Thanks for reading :)


	5. Home Sweet Home?

Sharon drove the vehicle into her allocated space and Andy, who had been following them, proceeded to visitors parking.

She wasn't quite sure how she felt about being railroaded into having him over for dinner. Being head of FID had made Sharon somewhat of a social pariah – and even though she now felt accepted by the team at Major Crimes, she still felt the need to keep some professional distance…especially from Andy Flynn.

They had known each other for many years; even back when they were working homicide and she was happily married, they had flirted a little - though it was always harmless and never with intent. But Sharon wasn't blind; she'd seen the way that her lieutenant had been looking at her lately – something had changed. Though what bothered Sharon wasn't the fact that Andy was looking…it was that she liked it.

"Has he been to the apartment before?"

"Lieutenant Flynn?" She put the car into park and unbuckled her seatbelt, "No. No he hasn't, Rusty. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Rusty undid his own seatbelt and shrugged it off of his shoulder before continuing, "have any of your team been here before?"

"No, I erm…" Sharon mumbled as she stretched to grab her purse out from behind his seat, "I tend not to socialise with the people that I work with..."

"You tend not to socialise with anybody."

Sharon removed her keys from the ignition and stared at Rusty – her mouth agape.

"I'm sorry!" He chuckled at her reaction, "but aren't cops supposed to like, go to cop bars for beers after work and stuff?"

"And miss out on the pleasure of your company?" Sharon retorted with a smirk as she opened her door, but before she exited the vehicle something occurred to her and she turned back sharply to face him. "Rusty," she said his name slowly, narrowing her eyes.

He looked at her expectantly, bobbing his head and matching her tone; "yes, Sharon?"

"You didn't…you didn't invite Lieutenant Flynn over tonight for that reason did you?"

"What? Like a play date?" Now it was Rusty's turn to smirk.

"Rusty," she warned.

"No! I swear - I was being totally selfish," he held his hands up in mock surrender. "This way I get to play computer games AND I get to eat take-out."

"Good." She said with finality as she placed her bag strap over her shoulder and exited the vehicle.

"These are nice apartments," Andy said by way of a greeting as he approached them. "A buddy of mine used to rent one – great views."

Sharon smiled and closing the door, she walked around vehicle to meet him, "you're right, lovely views; that's what sold it to me."

"You own?"

"I do," she nodded and pressed the button to lock her car, seeing that Rusty had gotten out. "I bought it when my youngest went to college. I didn't much like rattling around in the family home by myself."

"Empty nest?"

"Something like that," she smiled thinly.

"So, can we order from that City Wok place?" Rusty asked as he joined them in a slow stroll towards the building. "They do an awesome kung-po and you always get like a ton of fortune cookies."

Andy held the door open for them both, "Whatever you want, kid. It's your birthday party."

xXx

As Andy had suspected, the foyer to Sharon's apartment building had a security desk, although the Lieutenant was beginning to understand why it wouldn't take a criminal mastermind to bypass the guard to hand deliver a letter.

"That's Ronnie." Rusty identified the sleeping security guard. "I swear he's got narcolepsy or something. Hey Ronnie!"

At Rusty's raised voice, the aging security guards head snapped up and he instantly began sorting paperwork on his desk. "Good evening young man, Mrs Raydor."

"Good evening, Ronnie." Sharon smiled politely as the elevator doors opened. "How are you today?"

"Oh, can't complain." He pushed a hand through his silver-grey hair and slumped back into his chair, "you all have a good evening now."

"Thank you," Sharon responded as they boarded the elevator and at Flynn's confused look she leant towards him and spoke softly so Ronnie couldn't hear. "He retires in a couple of weeks," she shrugged, "he could lose his pension if they find out he sleeps on the job."

"So…" a lopsided smile graced Andy's lips, "you not always such a stickler for the rules, Captain?"

Sharon simply smiled enigmatically and pressed the button for the tenth floor.

It had occurred to her earlier in the day, that if Ronnie was on shift last night – whoever delivered the card to her door could easily have slipped past him undetected. With Andy at her side however, that question would have to wait – the last thing Sharon wanted to do was alert the ever attentive Lieutenant to her plight.

'Doors Closing' the automated voice on the elevator alerted the passengers to its ascension and as the doors closed on the foyer, Rusty waved to the watching security guard.

"Sweet dreams, Ronnie!"

Sharon playfully swatted his shoulder and they all shared a smile.

xXx

'Tenth Floor.'

The elevator announced its arrival at their destination, and they all filed out into the corridor.

As Andy followed them to their home - listening to the Captain ask Rusty about his day at school, he wondered how a person as warm hearted as Sharon could ever have such a formidable reputation at work.

But then - he recalled - she'd never had it easy.

In the late 70's, the LAPD was most definitely still a 'boys club' and, as young beat cop, Sharon would have started as an outsider. Never one to conform- she had filed complaints of misogyny against her peers and climbed the ladder the hard way; with nothing at her back but knives.

Andy sighed; he hoped she at least felt like part of the team now – because she truly was.

"I'll get the menu!" Rusty called over his shoulder as he moved through the apartment flicking on lights as he went.

Sharon dropped her keys on the phone table and turned on her heel to face Andy, "Welcome to our home."

He closed the door behind him and stepped further into the apartment, his hands in his pockets. "You have a lovely home, Captain."

"Sharon." She corrected him with a sharp shake of her head and a smile. "Let's leave the formalities at the office, shall we?"

"Alright," he smiled back. "You have a lovely home, Sharon."

"Thank you, Andy." She said with a smirk, "can I get you something to drink?" She placed her bag on the couch and headed into the kitchen where Rusty was rifling through a drawer for the menu. "We've got some soda, grape juice…" she opened the refrigerator door, "or would you prefer coffee – or tea perhaps?"

"Erm…" Andy wasn't really listening; the red envelope poking out through the open zipper on her purse had distracted him.

'She took the card with her to the office…' 

"Andy?"

"Huh?" He snapped his gaze back to meet hers, to find that she was narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously. "Oh, tea's fine – thanks."

Sharon looked to her couch, then back to Andy - wondering just what he had found that was so interesting, but before she could ask, Rusty bound into the space between them – menu in hand.

"Got it!" He wandered over to Andy as Sharon turned to fill the kettle with water and place it on the stove. "I know what I want already and Sharon always has the same so..." he waved the menu under the Lieutenants nose, "choose."

"I'll have the tofu with mixed vegetables and a side of egg fried rice," at Rusty's look of disgust he continued, "I always have the same from City Wok too – I know that it's good."

"I'll take your word for it." Rusty grumbled as he grabbed the phone from the table and proceeded to dial the number.

Sharon breezed back into the sitting room past Andy and bent to collect her bag from the couch, "please, have a seat Andy; I just need to get changed out of these clothes."

Andy tried not picture Sharon changing her clothes, and struggled to articulate a response as she moved down the hall to the bedrooms.

"Thanks, erm Sharon?" he eventually called after her, following her down the hall and she stopped, turning to face him with her hand on the handle of the door to her bedroom.

"Can I use your bathroom please?"

"Of course," she swung the bedroom door open and flicked on the light switch as she nodded her head in the direction of the bathroom, "it's just down the…"

When Sharon's gaze left Andy's and shifted into her bedroom, she fell silent.

The colour drained from her face and she dropped her purse to the floor - bringing a shaking hand to cover her mouth.

"Sharon?" Andy took a step towards her as she moved tentatively into the room. "What is it? What's wrong?

"My God." He heard her say, as he came to stand behind her – taking in the chilling display before them.

Sharon's clothes were strewn across the floor and the cabinets; underwear hung from the lampshade and decorated the mirror - more personal items were displayed for view on the chest at the bottom of her bed.

Yet what was most disturbing was the message that was crudely written in black paint, across her white cotton bed sheets.

'You'll get yours, bitch.' 

"Captain,"

Andy needn't have said anything; Sharon was already reaching for her gun. "Rusty, stay in the kitchen!"

TBC

Thanks for reading! I'd LOVE to know your thoughts so far ;O)


	6. History

You'll Get Yours – Chapter 6

Andy swept into the living room with his gun at the ready; having not yet familiarised himself with Sharon's apartment – the perpetrator would have the advantage.

As he moved past the kitchen, he heard Sharon shout "clear" from down the hall, signifying that the rooms on that side of the apartment were intruder free.

"What's going on?" Rusty hovered nervously by the refrigerator; having just called for take-out he stood clutching the phone to his chest, with a frantic expression on his face.

"It's alright, Rusty," Andy unlocked and slid open the door to the balcony and surveyed the area, "there's been a break in."

"A break in?" Rusty asked worriedly - looking to the coffee table where his new game console still sat. "Who breaks in and leaves a brand new boxed computer on the table?"

"All clear!" Andy shouted, loud enough for Sharon to hear and holstered his gun. "Good question kid. Do me a favour – go see if anything's missing from your room."

As Rusty left the kitchen, the kettle began to whistle and Andy pulled it from the stove and onto an iron stand; his mind a whirl of activity.

Their sweep of her apartment had surfaced nothing; whoever had broken in was long gone – having only left their mark in Sharon's bedroom and en-suite bathroom.

Andy moved to the front door, pulled it open and gave it a once over; there was no sign of forced entry and the apartment was on the 10th floor. There was only one way the intruder got into the building and that was past security.

Andy headed down to the lobby, taking two stairs at a time; a sickening feeling settling in his gut. First the mysterious card and now a break in…he needed to get to the bottom of this – and fast.

xXx

Rusty, en route to his bedroom, came to a halt as he passed Sharon's bedroom. He found her standing at the foot of her bed; she glanced up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Sharon," he took a tentative step towards her and caught the reflection in the mirror of something written on her bed sheets. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Rusty." She offered him a tight, reassuring smile and walked forwards to prevent him from entering, what was now a crime scene; "your room looks untouched - but could you please do as Lieutenant Flynn asked, and make sure that nothing is missing?"

"Okay…" he stepped back out into the hall, "…erm…Sharon…do you need anything or…?"

"No," she shook her head softly and placed a hand on his shoulder. "No, I'm fine – you just go head and check your room."

As Rusty reluctantly headed towards his room, Sharon turned her back on him; her eyes cataloguing the damage.

Her Egyptian cotton bed sheets were ruined – but everything else appeared to be superficial; there was underwear strewn all over the room, clothes hung out of her drawers and her wardrobe had been ransacked – but she doubted that the intruder had been looking for anything in particular. From what she saw, Sharon's experience told her that when breaking in, the suspect only had two objectives in mind; to frighten and humiliate her.

At the foot of the bed, laid out on a wooden trunk were several condom packets, a bottle of lubricant, a small pink vibrator and something else that did not belong to her.

She felt dazed as she stood, her eyes mapping the room. She wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there when she heard Andy entered the room behind her; she glanced over her shoulder to acknowledge his presence.

"No real surprise here; but Ronnie on the security desk didn't see a thing." He hovered next to her, taking in the items thrown haphazardly around the room. "Anything missing?"

"Not that I can see…" Sharon ran her gaze over the room once more, "but that is not mine," she pointed to the personal items that decorated the trunk, whilst avoiding looking at her lieutenant.

She heard him clear this throat, "Sharon, I can understand…"

"I'm not being prudish, Lieutenant," she spun to face him in full Captain Raydor mode; "the other items are mine but that – thing with the straps is not." With that, she turned on her heal and stalked off towards the en-suite, leaving Andy standing in her bedroom alone – a blush colouring his cheeks.

xXx

Sharon stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the words 'You'll Get Yours Bitch' written in her favourite lipstick across its surface.

'Why is this happening again?' It didn't make sense to her; all lose ends had been tied. Ian Banston was incarcerated in a psychiatric facility and he'd had no visitors for years. 'It doesn't make sense…'

She caught Andy's gaze in the mirror as he once again came up behind her; his expression solemn. "Who the hell would do this, Sharon?"

Sharon opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. If this was the work of a cop that she'd investigated whilst in IA - they had a serious grudge and their behaviour was certainly escalating.

Andy reached for his cell phone; "I'm calling it in."

"Wait!" Sharon spun to face him – the gravity of the situation suddenly hitting her. "Rusty…" her eyes drew wide, "if Child Services hears about this…Andy it could jeopardise my custody…"

Andy looked at her – a frown creasing his brow. It was like he was truly seeing Sharon for the first time - her Captain's mask had slipped, revealing a vulnerability that he didn't know existed; she was willing to break the rules, to keep the boy.

"Sharon," after a few beats, he took a step towards her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder "I understand where you're coming from, I really do…but can you honestly say that Rusty is safe here? That either of you are?"

She felt the heat from Andy's hand burning through the silk of her shirt as she stared into his eyes; his expression was sincere, he brushed his thumb over her shoulder affectionately.

Sharon's breath caught in her throat and she looked down sharply, leaning back against the sink – squirming under his scrutiny. In that moment, she couldn't deal with the raw emotion that she glimpsed behind her lieutenants brown eyes; she couldn't cope with the plethora of feelings that Andy's intense gaze stirred within her.

"The best thing we can do now is find the son-of-a-bitch…Sharon…"Andy dipped his head to recapture her gaze, gently tucking a finger under her chin to lift her eyes to meet his.

"Sharon?" Rusty calling her name from the hall startled them both and they separated.

"I'm coming," Sharon responded - her voice hoarse as she pushed herself off of the sink and moved past Andy to exit the en-suite. "Don't come in here – it's a crime scene."

Andy reached out and grabbed her wrist as she passed him; Sharon looked down at his hand, before raising her head, her expression betraying her uncertainty.

"Captain," Andy said more firmly this time, his approach more professional; "I'm calling it in."

Sharon paused as she swallowed, then slowly and softly she nodded - conceding to her Lieutenant; after all, he was right.

Simultaneously, Andy reached for his phone and released his hold on her wrist.

xXx

The Chinese food arrived at the same time as forensics, and Sharon's apartment was already a hive of police activity.

Rusty and his playstation had been collected by Lieutenant Tao, to spend the night with his son Kevin - and Sharon had been hiding out on the Balcony ever since the uniformed officers had arrived.

Andy paid for the food and placed it on the counter, before showing the crime scene specialist down the hall, where he heard laughter coming from Sharon's bedroom.

"Well well well, Captain Raydor." A dark haired, rotund officer was holding the strap-on dildo up by a buckle; it swung between his fat, glove encased fingers as he waggled his eye brows suggestively.

"Always knew she was a dyke!" Came the response from a younger, slimmer colleague that was standing by Sharon's wardrobe making notes.

"Hey, moron's!" Andy snapped, making them both jump to attention. "That's a decorated Captain of the LAPD you're talking about." He placed one hand on his hip and jabbed a finger from the other hand in their direction, "I hear you speak like that again and I'll have you both up on charges of insubordination; just do your God damned jobs."

He spun around quickly, barely missing the CSI and stalked down the hall.

"Assholes." Andy muttered under his breath as he moved swiftly through the living room, coming to a stop when he reached the door to the balcony.

He placed his hand on the door handle and took a cleansing breath; the last thing Sharon needed was him storming out there all hot-headed – he needed to calm down.

What actually stung Andy most of all about his altercation with the uniformed officers, was that just one year ago, he'd have joined in with their banter – not even giving it a second thought.

The surprised looks on the faces of the officers when he'd defended Captain Raydor said it all - the former head of FID was a fair target; even when she was in trouble, she was not one of their own.

And in the face of Sharon's current plight - that thought troubled Andy, greatly.

After a few beats, Andy stepped out from the air-conditioned apartment and onto the balmy balcony, where Sharon sat on a wicker chair nursing a large glass of white wine.

"Have the 'dyke' jokes started yet?" She greeted Andy coolly, as he came to sit in the chair next to hers.

"No," Andy lied. It pained him even more that she knew what her co-workers said about her behind her back; but of course she knew - she was Captain Raydor. "They're just bagging and tagging."

Sharon sneered and took a sip of her wine; "you're a terrible liar, Andy Flynn." She tilted her head to look at him, "but I appreciate your sensitivity."

He smiled thinly at her; Sharon's eyes looked glazed behind her glasses and Andy noted that a third of the wine had gone from the bottle.

He sighed and looked out across the LA skyline. Lights twinkled rhythmically in the distance; even at night the view from up here was amazing. "Rusty said that you had a card delivered this morning."

Sharon harrumphed and took another sip of wine, settling back against the cushions on the chair and lifting her bare feet to rest on the table in front of her. "Good work, detective."

"Sharon," Andy rested his elbows on his knees and turned his head to look at her, "what the hell is going on?"

She removed her glass and dropped them on the side table, pinching the bridge of her nose "I screwed up."

"What do you mean you screwed up?" Andy frowned, not following. "How did you screw up?"

She looked at him then, her eyes bloodshot from alcohol and exhaustion; "I screwed up twenty years ago and now I'm paying for it. Again."

Andy did the math in his head, twenty years ago was about the time that Sharon joined Internal Affairs. "Twenty years ago? Sharon, I'm not following – what do you mean that you're paying for it again?"

She swung her feet off the table and moved with her wine to rest against the balcony wall, staring out into the night.

Andy was about to get up and join her, when she finally spoke. "Do you remember a Detective called James Banston?"

"Yeah," Although Andy's memories of that time were fogged by his alcohol consumption; he could clearly recollect the detective in question, "dirty cop - worked in Vice…didn't he off himself?"

"Jimmy was my friend." Sharon hung her head and Andy internally chastised himself for opening his big mouth. "We went through the academy together; our families took trips together – spent the holidays together..."

When Sharon grew silent, Andy got to his feet and stood at her side; his proximity encouraged her to continue.

"About a month after I transferred to IA, Vice were investigating a human trafficking ring. I just happened to be with Jimmy at his house, when he took a call and something …just didn't sit right with me."

"Was it something he said?"

Sharon sighed, "…it was more, how he behaved."

"Like he had something to hide?"

She nodded, her gaze still fixed on the horizon. "I asked him about the case, casually in conversation - but he clammed up on me."

"Which made you more suspicious."

"At first I thought it was just because I'd joined IA." Sharon looked fleetingly at Andy, "Jimmy had warned me against it; he told me it was a bad move and that I'd lose friends - but I didn't move into IA to win a popularity contest, you know?" She smiled sardonically and took a sip of her wine, "I never for a minute thought that he'd meant I'd lose him."

"So, what happened then?"

"He started to avoid me, making excuses to leave when we met up as families with the kids and I started to think…you know…I could understand that with me being in IA, he'd want to distance himself from me professionally but…why socially?"

Andy shrugged, "who else was to know you were friends?"

"Right." Sharon nodded her head in agreement. "So, when I got wind that there was going to be an IA investigation into Vice; Jimmy came to mind."

Andy swallowed, "So you shopped him?"

"No." Sharon turned to face Andy, shaking her head softly, her eyes welling with tears. "And that's where I screwed up."

"What happened, Sharon?" He asked softly.

She closed her eyes and exhaled, "I had to be sure. I didn't want to mar his reputation or ruin our friendship….so I went to see him at his house." She opened her eyes and licked her lips nervously. "Marion, Jimmy's wife, was out at art class – as she was every Tuesday. When I got there he didn't want to see me. He was already stressed out; he'd been drinking, he was sweating and he couldn't keep still."

"Sounds like he knew they were on to him."

"He did, and at first he denied any involvement." Sharon looked at her wine glass, "But then he asked me for help."

"You helped the guy?"

Sharon brought her gaze back up to meet Andy's, "He asked me to be his alibi for the previous Tuesday night. And when I refused, he said that he'd just say that he was with me anyway. He'd say that we were having an affair, and that was precisely why I was denying being with him – to protect myself."

"Son-of-a-bitch."

"I couldn't believe it." She smirked, "A good friend that I'd had for so many years, was prepared to bring me down to save his own ass."

"What did you do?"

"Oh, I had no intention of letting that happen."

"So you reported him?"

She nodded, "I led him to believe that he had the upper hand, and as soon as I left – I called it in. They were going to haul him in for questioning the next day."

"What about his allegations?"

She drained the remainder of her glass of wine, "Jackson and I were already separated; Jimmy would have known that if he had spent any time with me over the previous weeks…" Sharon narrowed her eyes, accentuating the fine lines surrounding them. "And I already had my own alibi for that Tuesday night – my mother was staying and had been helping me with the kids after Jackson left."

"So he had nothing over you?"

"Exactly. But he didn't know that…he told Marion that we'd been having an affair when she got home from art class."

"God."

"Marion called me. She was frantic, shouting and screaming down the phone. I could hear Jimmy in the background yelling at her, the kids were crying…Jimmy was pretty drunk when I left him…I was worried so I hung up and placed a call for a squad car to go over and check on them but…"

"What?"

"They were too late." Sharon turned her back on Andy and returned to her seat.

"For what?" Andy leant against the balcony wall and watched as Sharon placed her empty wine glass next to her on the side table.

"There had been a struggle." Sharon picked up her glasses and put them back on her nose, "they'd been fighting and in the process Marion had fallen backwards and caught her head on the bedside cabinet."

"He killed her?" Andy asked, his eyes wide.

"No, but he may as well have." Sharon sniffed, fighting back tears that were threatening to fall, "Marion was in a coma for a few months; when she finally awoke her brain function was minimal. She never recovered – she died in a care home about ten years ago and I never got to tell her the truth."

"Oh my God, Sharon." Andy moved to sit in front of her on the coffee table, "that's terrible. Is that why Jimmy killed himself?"

"Maybe," she wiped at a tear with the back of her hand as it fell down her cheek. "That or the prospect of facing prison."

"But Sharon, I don't understand…how is that case linked to the break in today?"

Sharon sighed heavily and slumped back into the cushions; picking at a loose thread on the cuff of her cow-print shirt. "About 10 years ago, when Marion had passed away – I started to get these…these threatening letters through the mail."

"Like the card that you received this morning?"

She nodded, "they all had the same message – just four words…"

"You'll get yours, bitch," Andy guessed. "What does it mean?"

"The night of Marion's accident, when I'd heard what had happened, I got to Jimmy's house just as he was being escorted across the yard. He yelled 'You'll get your bitch' at me as he was pushed into the back of the squad car. I guess he was sticking to his story about the affair…"

"You say they had kids?"

"They did," Sharon nodded sadly, "Ian and Chloe and they saw everything. Ian was older, about eight when it happened, Chloe was only four." Sharon wiped at another tear, "the last I'd heard was that they'd gone to live with their grandmother in Nevada – but it turns out that she had passed away the following year and they had been placed into the system."

"They grew up in foster care?"

"They were both bounced around from home to home…I found out later, that Chloe had died of a drug overdose in Vegas when she was just fifteen… If I'd have known, Andy…I would have tried to help them – I feel so responsible for what happened…"

"Sharon," Andy didn't think; he just took her hands in his – he was starting to understand why she had been so adamant about keeping Rusty out of the foster system. "You are not responsible for what happened to that family."

Sharon blinked back her tears; she kept her eyes on their joined hands, but made no effort to pull away. When she next spoke, her voice seemed so small; "Ian seemed to think so."

"He wrote the letters?"

"His mother's death…it triggered something in him. First it was the letters, and then he cornered Ricky, my son, outside high school; he told him all these lies about Jimmy and me having an affair…"

Andy ran his thumbs over her knuckles, "did you report him?"

"I did, for whatever reason, they didn't find him fast enough," she rose her gaze to meet Andy's and he absently wondered if the lack of police response had something to do with her job title. "He showed up at my house one night; he said if he couldn't have a family, then neither should I."

"What did you do?"

"I shot him." she said simply - before expanding on her statement, "he threatened my family, so I took him down and arrested him. He's been in Ridgewater Psychiatric ever since."

"He still there?"

"Yes. I checked this morning."

"I don't remember any of this," Andy was at a loss as to why he wouldn't have heard about something so serious happening to a colleague. "When something like that happens to a cop, you normally hear about it…"

"I may be a cop, but I'm an outsider, Andy" she squeezed his fingers. "I know how it works."

"Sharon, you are not an outsider."

She smiled unconvincingly, and slowly pulled her hands from his – rubbing her sweaty palms on her black trousers.

Andy sighed and sat back on the coffee table, regaining professional distance; "You run the card for prints yet?"

"No…I…" she shook her head. "Until tonight I thought it was just some cop with a grudge that had read my file I…"

"Has anyone else touched it?"

"Just Rusty and me…Andy, it might still be completely unrelated. Everything I have told you is in my file and I put an end to a lot of careers …"

Andy frowned. "You may be right…has anyone else got keys for this place?"

"My husband Jack, he has a set," she shrugged, "but he's in Nevada and…Oh my God…" It dawned on Sharon as soon as she'd said it.

"Didn't you say that Ian grew up in Nevada?"

"I'll give Jackson a call." Sharon swiftly got to her feet moved to head back inside.

Andy followed suit, "We'll arrange for your locks to be changed, but you're not staying here tonight."

"Andy I'll be fine," Sharon stopped with her hand on the door handle, turning to face him. "I'm am the police – remember?"

"You've also consumed the best part of a bottle of wine."

"Andy,"

"Sharon look, if you insist on staying here – then I'm staying too. End of story."

She should have been appalled at the suggestion, she should have pulled rank and made him leave – but as Andy stood, arms crossed, looking stubborn as a mule, Sharon realised that for the first time in many years, she had a colleague that cared about her.

She was no longer an outsider; and that point - combined with three quarters of a bottle of wine, weakened her resolve.

TBC


	7. Jackson

Chapter 7

"Rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens."

'Snip'

"Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens."

'Snip.'

"…dah dah dah dum dah dah tied up with string…"

Breaking in to Captain Raydor's apartment had left the intruder feeling elated; their plan had been perfectly executed.

Mother would be proud.

As the dulcet tones of Julie Andrews filled the kitchen, they sang along cheerily whilst making the finishing touches to their pièce de résistance.

"These are a few of my favourite things!"

'Snip, snip'

"It's perfect." A menacing smile crept slowly across their lips to reveal flawlessly straight teeth. "I bet she hasn't even noticed they're missing."

xXx

As Sharon and Andy re-entered her apartment, the last of the detectives had packed up and were loitering by the entrance; their curious eyes taking in their surroundings – shamelessly observing the ice queens layer.

Ignoring them, Sharon silently picked up the phone from where Rusty had left it on the kitchen counter, and retired to the sitting area.

As Andy ushered the detectives out of the apartment, she punched her husband's number into the phone and taking a deep breath, she pressed the receiver to the ear.

After several rings, Jackson answered with forced enthusiasm; a sure sign that he was doing something that she would not approve of, "Sharon! To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I…" Sharon faltered at hearing the tell-tale jingle of a slot machine; she turned her back on Andy and moved further into the sitting area. "Where are you?"

"With friends…"

"Are you at a casino?" She asked quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose and wondering why – in the face of her current plight – she persisted in honing in on her husband's failings.

"Give me some credit Sharon, would ya?" Sharon imagined that he was rolling his eyes; "Do you really think I'd answer a call from you if I were at a casino? I'm at a friend's fundraiser; theme's Monte Carlo – they have a casino set up in the entrance hall."

"A Monte Carlo themed party in Nevada?" Sharon asked incredulously.

"I'm not in Nevada, Sharon; I'm in New York this week – look, was there a point to your call?"

"Yes." She said firmly, nodding her head as if to dislodge her concern for him from her mind; they were separated, her children were grown, she was financially independent – Jackson Raydor's gambling addiction was no longer her problem. "Someone broke in to my apartment tonight…"

"God, Sharon! Are you okay? What did they steal? Do you need me to fly down there?"

'And do what?' She internally scoffed; having Jackson back in her life right now was the last thing she needed. "No, no, no. I just need you to tell me that you still have the key I gave you – the one with the photo on the key-ring? There was no sign of forced entry so…"

"Oh yeah, sure, it's on my keychain."

"You're sure?" Sharon glanced back at Andy, who was securing the locks on her front door.

"Well, my keys are in my jacket and it's checked but…"

She raised her eyebrows disapprovingly; "do you often leave your keys in a jacket that you've put in a coat-check?"

"Do you always have that stick up your ass?"

"Jack,"

"I'm sure it's still there, Sharon. Besides, couldn't the intruder have just, I don't know, picked your lock?"

"Why thank you, Detective," Sharon spoke in a hushed tone, her patience was wearing thin. "Strangely, we have in fact thought of that. The case has links to Nevada, you live there and have a key to my apartment; so if you would be so kind as to check your damned key chain…"

Sharon cautioned a look over her shoulder; Andy had moved into the kitchen and as filling the kettle with water – he didn't appear to have noticed their bickering.

"Alright," Jackson conceded with a huff; recognising that he'd pushed Sharon far enough. "I'm on my way – you want me to call you back?"

"No, I'll hang on."

Sharon held the phone to her chest as she waited for Jackson to retrieve his jacket and sighed. It had only been a few months since he'd last graced her with his presence and the wound from his exit was still raw. She had refused to read the note he had left her explaining his departure; Sharon was tired of his excuses. Having Rusty witness how he easily he still drifted in and out of her life…it resurfaced painful memories of having to explain to her own children why their daddy wasn't coming home.

Noise from the kitchen drew her attention once more towards Andy. She watched him closely as he busied himself by packing away the still untouched Chinese food; she noticed how comfortable he looked in her home.

Sharon had surprised herself by agreeing to allow him to stay; especially considering that there would also be a uniformed officer parked outside – Andy's presence really wasn't needed. If her lieutenant being at her home when she discovered the break in hadn't already started the rumour mill turning… him not leaving with the rest of the detectives certainly would.

As the former head of FID, Sharon should know better.

'You want him here.'

So what if people talked; they weren't doing anything wrong…

'Oh, but you want to.' Her subconscious mocked, just as Andy closed the refrigerator door and turned to face her.

Their eyes locked across the room and Sharon, as if concerned that Andy could read her thoughts, blushed furiously and turned her back on him - kicking herself when she realised that the reflection in the balcony door provided her with little shelter from his scrutiny.

'Smooth.' Sherubbed her forehead and dropped her gaze to her stocking clad feet, praying that the ground would swallow her up. 'That was real smooth, Sharon.'

"Sharon, hello! You still there?"

Thankfully, Jackson calling her name down the phone detracted from her embarrassment and she quickly put the receiver back to her ear. "Did you find it?"

"Yeah, I found the key but - you know - it's the strangest thing…"

"What's is? Jack, what's wrong?"

"The photograph of the kids that was in the plastic key-ring thingy…it's gone."

"It's gone?" Sharon turned back to look at Andy; her eyes wide.

"What is it?" Andy moved towards her until couch was the only thing that separated them. "Is something wrong?"

Sharon lifted her hand to calm Andy as she continued to question Jackson, "Jack, is it possible the key ring just snapped off?"

"No, that's what's weird. The actual key ring is still here – it's just the photograph that's missing."

"What?" Why would someone want a 15 year old photo of her kids? A sickening felling washed over Sharon; her mind flashing back to the night that she shot Ian Banston in her home…the night the psychopath tried to killed her family.

"The photograph - it's been removed from the key ring. Why would someone do that?"

Sharon sank onto the couch – her legs giving way beneath her; Andy rounded the furniture and hovered by the coffee table, her anxiety at this new development reflected in his expression. "Jack, when was the last time you remember seeing that photograph?"

"I don't know…last time I was in LA – when I stayed with you maybe."

"Okay." Sharon nodded, and deftly switched her manner to work mode. "Okay Jack, this is important; I want you to take that key ring into the local precinct and get them to bag it. Ask them send it by courier to the LA office marked for my attention."

"Alright." Jackson answered quickly, genuine concern now evident in his tone. "Sharon, what the hell is going on?"

"It's the Banston case, Jack." She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, "it's happening again."

xXx

"No honey, it's alright." Sharon sat hunched over her desk as she attempted to placate her daughters concerns. "I have one of my lieutenants staying with me and there is a car parked right outside. I'll be fine; you just get some sleep."

Andy watched Sharon from the kitchen; her soothing, well-practiced 'mother tone' was in complete contrast to her body language.

Her shoulders looked tight; her fingers traced her brow in quick succession as if she were attempting to rub the tension away. The missing photograph of her children was a sinister twist – one that suggested a far more personal link to Sharon than an angry cop with a grudge. Breaking into Sharon's apartment to rattle her was one thing - stealing a photograph from her estranged husband's keychain suggested insider knowledge and detailed planning.

Sharon had every right to be concerned.

"I love you too, stay safe sweetie and call me in the morning. Good night."

Sharon hung up the phone for the third time that hour and dropped it on the desk. She collapsed against the back of the chair, looking to the ceiling. Andy wondered towards her and placed a steaming cup of tea on a coaster.

"It's chamomile." She lifted her tired gaze to meet his, expressing her thanks with a weak smile.

Andy felt his heart ache as he looked into her eyes; they were completely unguarded – openly expressing all of her fear and worry.

When Rusty was missing, when Sykes took a beating from a suspect, when the Poster Boy murderer committed suicide right in front of her eyes…those were all times when the Captain had let her guard slip. But those moments were temporary; fleeting lapses of her resolve that Andy knew Sharon saw as her weakness.

Ordinarily, she would clam up and make her excuses; shielding herself from the prying eyes of the team by shutting herself in her office – Captain Raydor had a stiff-upper-lip reputation to maintain.

But now Sharon simply sat, her tired eyes observing his own reaction to her vulnerability…and Andy didn't know where to put himself.

"Are you alright?" He asked lamely, eventually coming to perch on the corner of the desk.

"Not really." Sharon answered honestly; wiping a tear from her cheek. "It's not fair."

Andy waited silently for her to elaborate, fighting the urge to reach over and pull her into his arms.

"On them." Sharon clarified, sitting forwards and reaching for her tea, bringing it closer to her on the desk. "Why did they have to involve my children?"

"To get to you, Sharon." Andy answered with conviction. "So far, it seems to me that the sole objective here has been to screw with you."

"But to go to such lengths…"

"So they send you an anonymous letter, break in here just to make a mess," Andy gesticulated casually with is right hand, his left clutched his own mug of tea. "Just because they stole a photograph of your kids when they were young – it doesn't mean they have any idea where your family are now."

"They knew where Jack was."

"Jack was in LA recently, they probably lifted the photograph then. They're just trying to scare you, Sharon."

"Well," she huffed and settled back in her chair, pulling her black cardigan tighter around her body. "They're doing a fine job."

Andy nodded sympathetically, "why don't you try and get some sleep?"

"No." Sharon shook her head and got to her feet, "I can't sleep now; not with everything that's happened." She brushed past him, collecting her tea from the desk en route.

"You'll be no good to anybody tomorrow unless you try." Andy pressed, twisting on the desk to watch her retreat to the kitchen.

Sharon stopped by the counter and turned on her heel to face him, her eyes narrowed. "How did they know that I'd make the connection to Nevada and call Jack?" She asked, completely ignoring Andy's recommendation to get some rest.

"You're a good cop."

Sharon shook her head "It's a hell of a leap to go to all the trouble of locating Jackson and taking his keys…we could have just of easily assumed that the locks had been picked."

"What are you thinking?"

Sharon frowned, her jaw set as she ran through the evidence in her mind; though eventually she sighed and shook her head softly. "I don't know. I just…it doesn't make sense."

"It may do in the morning,"

"Andy…" Sharon verbally resisted his advice, but her eyes betrayed her exhaustion.

"Look Sharon," Andy got to his feet and walked over to her. "Trust me, this'll all be much easier to digest in the morning, one you've had some sleep. There's nothing we can do now anyway; hopefully they lifted some prints tonight and we'll have something to work with tomorrow."

"But I…"

"Sharon," He touched her arm ever so slightly and she inhaled sharply at the contact. "You need your rest; I'll be out here armed and ready." Andy removed his hand and took a sip of his tea, "if the son of a bitch comes back, he'll have me to deal with."

"And you'll be facing yet another FID investigation." Sharon retorted with a nervous smile; it felt strange to be standing so close to him at night, alone in her apartment.

"Hey," he shrugged, "I haven't had an altercation with Sgt Elliott since you took over Major Crimes. I'm sure he's missing me."

"I suppose that's true." She smiled wider this time, and Andy graced her with a smile of his own.

"Now off to bed." He playfully scolded, removing the cooling cup of chamomile from her grasp. "I'll see you in the morning."

Silently, Sharon nodded and moved in the direction of the bedrooms as Andy took half-drunk cups of tea into the kitchen.

After a few beats, he heard her call out to him "Andy?"

"Yeah," he poked his head around the refrigerator to find Sharon hovering in the hall, wringing her hands together – a nervous habit.

"Thank you," her voice, small yet sincere was accompanied by a soft smile. "For everthing."

"Any time." Andy responded casually. "Now get some rest."

Sharon nodded softly as she turned and retreated to Rusty's room for what sadly both of them knew, would be a restless night's sleep.

xXx

The shrill ringing of a cell phone startled Andy and he swung his legs off of the couch, banging his toes on the edge of Sharon's coffee table.

"Son of a…" he cursed as he reached out and swiped his phone from the table; silencing the offensive noise. "Yeah." He answered gruffly, his spare hand squeezing at his throbbing foot.

"Well good morning to you too, sunshine." The sarcastic tones of Lieutenant Provenza echoed down the phone line.

"What do you want Provenza? It's" he squinted to look at his watch in the dark – it was 4:30am, "barely morning."

"Well, sadly murderers don't think about our beauty sleep."

"There's been another murder?"

"Well, almost," his friend huffed. "Somebody attempted to murder Amber Moore last night at her house. I'm on my way there now."

"The actress?" Andy played catch up; with everything that had happened to Sharon in the past few hours, he had all but forgotten about their current case.

"Yeah, the actress; it appears that she may have been our intended victim all along. I'll swing by and pick you up in 5."

Andy jumped to his feet, "No wait! I'm not at home."

"Oh really?" Andy could picture his partner suggestively waggling his eyebrows.

"I'm at Shar…Captain Raydor's apartment."

"What?" Provenza raised his voice enough to cause Andy to pull the phone from his ear. "Are you out of your God damn mind? She's our boss Flynn…"

"Look, it's not like that…"

"Oh sure."

"It's not!" He hissed conscious that Sharon was still sleeping in a nearby room. "Look, there was a break in at her apartment last night. Some sick bastard is screwing with her and she was a little shook up, so I stayed here – butON HER COUCH."

"Is she okay?" Provenza's immediate reaction was concern, however ultimately his curiosity pushed that to one side. "Wait, she called you?"

"She's fine and no…" Andy pinched the bridge of his nose, anticipating Provenza's response. "I was already here."

"What?"

"Look, it's complicated okay? I'll meet you at the scene and fill you in on the details later."

"Complicated?" Provenza's tone was dripping with disapproval. "Damn right it's complicated."

Simultaneously, they hung up their phones and Andy threw his on the couch.

"Grumpy old bastard." Andy groused as he set about locating his trousers…but deep down he knew that Provenza was right.

Sharon was Andy's superior officer; if any gossip arising from last night got back to Assistant Chief Taylor, it could potentially impact their careers. Their squad were the elite and Sharon's high profile role meant that rumours alone could result in some form of action.

They could be reassigned or even forced into retirement; Andy knew that he needed to keep a professional distance…he just didn't know if he could.

TBC


	8. A Gift

You'll Get Yours – Chapter 8

Sharon couldn't sleep; she had tossed and turned for what felt like hours. The bed sheet and her night gown kept tangling annoyingly around her legs; she couldn't arrange the pillows quite right…

It wasn't that Rusty's bed was particularly uncomfortable…and she thought she had sunk enough wine to ensure at least a few hours' sleep. Yet every time she closed her eyes, the evidence paraded itself behind closed lids – mocking her inner detective as she repeatedly came up with nothing.

No suspect, no motive – not a thing.

'This is pointless.'

Sharon's mind was a hive of activity; she exhaled exasperatedly and stared at the ceiling.

'And now I need to pee.' 

She threw the covers from her body, kicked them to the foot of the bed and with a huff, swung her legs off of the mattress and got to her feet.

Flicking the switch on a nearby lamp, she swiped her watch and glasses from the bedside cabinet.

'5am.' 

Pulling a pale-blue silk robe over her night gown, Sharon tied the cord at her waist and tentatively placed her hand on the door knob…Andy Flynn was asleep outside.

Aside from the break in…Sharon couldn't deny that Andy's proximity had also contributed to her restless night's sleep. A tension had hung between them all evening; the more time they spent alone together, the more apparent it became….and the more difficult it was to ignore.

Her attraction to him made her uncomfortable, he made her feel awkward and gawky – something that the unflappable Captain hadn't felt in a very, very long time

But estranged from her husband or not, Sharon was a still a good catholic wife and Andy Flynn was her subordinate, which were two very strong reasons as to why she should nip it in the bud right now.

She should put a stop to the flirting, the lingering glances, and the unnecessary touches - before their behaviour led to something they would both regret. It could end up costing them their friendship, their jobs…or Sharon her mortal soul.

She raised an eyebrow and smirked at her own conscience; 'being a tad dramatic, don't you think?'

Sharon mentally shook herself and opened the door, straightening her unruly bed-head as she did.

'There's nothing wrong with me wanting to look presentable.'

She confidently crossed the hall to the bathroom, cautioning a glance in the direction of the living area - but she stopped in her tracks when she noticed that Andy was nowhere in sight.

The area was dimly lit by a lamp next to the sofa, but she could clearly see that the couch was empty.

Curiosity caused Sharon to forget about the dull ache in her bladder, and pushed her further down the hall to seek out her lieutenant.

The laminate floor felt cool under her bare feet as she passed her own bedroom, the door to which was closed - just as she had left it. 'Out of sight, out of mind.' If only that were true.

"Andy?" Sharon's throat felt dry; the rasp in her voice was exaggerated by the quiet apartment and the silence that greeted her once she reached the couch.

The apartment was empty.

'He left?' Sharon attempted to ignore the wave disappointment that revelation sent through her body. She stiffened her posture, casually ran a hand through her hair and turned towards the kitchen.

It was then that she saw a note on the counter.

Sharon frowned and moved towards the counter tentatively - recent events making her cautious, but she quickly recognised the scrawl and relaxed.

Morning,

Provenza called - development on the case.

Nothing we can't handle so GET SOME REST!

Andy.

PS. Don't fall over the guy in the hall.

Re-reading Andy's note, Sharon smiled despite herself and wondered over to the front door. She peered through the peephole to discover a uniformed officer in the corridor, perched on one of her dining chairs, reading the sports pages.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head disapprovingly, yet her smile broadened all the same.

Sharon decided to leave the officer sitting outside her apartment and returned to the bathroom to get ready.

If Andy Flynn thought she was taking the day off, he had another thing coming.

xXx

"Lieutenant Flynn!" As Andy entered Amber Moore's home, Provenza greeted his partner with false enthusiasm. "So glad you could finally join us."

"I'm sorry," Andy looked flustered as he joined his friend at the entrance to the sitting room. "I had to arrange cover at the Captain's apartment. We think the creep that broke in may have had a key."

Concern flashed over Provenza's aging features, but before he found his voice, Sykes's who had apparently been in earshot, found hers; "Did something happen to the Captain, Lieutenant?"

Andy spun around to see that Sanchez's interest had also being piqued; he rolled his eyes and gesticulated exaggeratedly. "Captain's fine; there was a break in at her apartment last night so she's taking some time to sort things out."

"They take much?" Sanchez asked, heavy frown lines creasing his brow.

"Nothing we should be concerning ourselves with," Flynn dismissed the detective's question; Sharon was a fiercely private person – he had no intention of discussing her plight with the team. "You guys gonna bring me up to speed?"

Stoney-faced as ever, Sanchez took the hint – Sykes on the other hand…

"Lieutenant Flynn, is Captain Raydor okay?"

"Captain's fine, Sykes," Provenza snapped, ushering the team back into the sitting area from the hall. "As a detective," he muttered for Andy's ears only, "you'd think she'd be better at taking hints."

"Good morning, Andy." Lieutenant Tao welcomed Andy from his position on the floor. He was currently crouching next to a smashed china pot by the doors to the patio; to Andy's eyes, the broken vase looked like the only sign of a struggle.

"Mike," Andy nodded in response, "what happened?"

"Amber Moore was attacked in the early hour of this morning." Sanchez reported, as he stood in front of the lieutenants, his hands clasped casually in front of him. "She came home from a party and was jumped as she was opening the door."

"Another party?" Andy frowned.

"People mourn in mysterious ways." Provenza grumbled suspiciously.

Sanchez continued. "Miss Moore came home from the party around 4am, parked the car in the garage and entered via the back entrance to the house. Her assailant was waiting for her in the garden."

"Why the back door?"

"Apparently from the garage, the back door is the quickest route to the house, Sir."

"Did she see her attacker?"

"No Sir, she was attacked from behind and they fell into the house - knocking over that pot," he signalled to the broken china. "She didn't have time to shut off the alarm, the sound of it startled her attacker and they ran off."

"She okay?"

"She's shaken up; a few cuts and bruises."

"Where is she now?"

"Upstairs."

Andy frowned and turned to Provenza, "does it strike you as a little odd that the attacker knew enough to wait outside the back of the house for our actress, but didn't know that she had an alarm?"

"That's why I've always liked you Flynn," Provenza patted his friends shoulder. "Great minds think alike."

xXx

"What do you mean he never got off the plane?" Lieutenant Flynn yelled into his cell phone as he stalked towards the murder room from the elevators. "And you didn't think to update me?"

Sharon, who had heard Andy coming from the moment the elevator reached their floor, left her office and stepped into the shared space to greet him.

"Yeah, well thanks for nothing, buddy!" Flynn angrily cut off the call, just as he noticed Sharon standing by her office, a puzzled expression on her face. He wondered over to meet her, "I thought you were taking some time off?"

Sharon raised her eyebrows. "No Lieutenant, you assumed that I would be taking time off," she crossed her arms over her lilac suit jacket. "Care to tell me who you were just yelling at?"

"Vegas PD. Franco DeSalve, Amber Moore's agent - he never got off the plane last night and the ass-hat I've been dealing with didn't think to tell me until now."

"Did he get on the plane?"

"Vegas are looking into it."

Over Andy's shoulder, Sharon saw the rest of her team entering the murder room with Amber Moore in tow; the young actress, who appeared visibly shaken, had a graze above her right eye.

"Good morning everyone," Sharon welcomed the team and turned back to Andy with a frown.

"The Actress was attacked at her house this morning," he shrugged. "We've brought her in to make a statement."

Andy's cell-phone began to sound in his hand and he answered it promptly, "Excuse me…Lieutenant Flynn."

"Miss Moore," Sharon smiled as she side stepped Andy and glided across the room to greet their victim. "I'm so sorry to hear about your incident. Detective Sykes, please can you take our guest to the conference room."

Sykes nodded and pointed down the hall, "this way Miss Moore."

Sharon turned her attentions back to the rest of her team. "What happened?"

"Someone attacked her at her home," Provenza took a seat at his desk, slumping back in his chair.

"Did she say who?" Sharon pressed him for information.

"She didn't see them – 'apparently' they attacked her from behind."

"You sound suspicious."

"Whoever it was that attacked her, waited on the patio for her to return home at 4am. They knew enough about her routine to know that because she was driving, she would be using the rear entrance to the house - but they didn't know that she had an alarm and it startled them?"

"She doesn't look particularly injured…" Sharon granted. "Are you suggesting that she staged it?"

"And the Oscar goes to…"

Sharon narrowed her eyes as she processed the new information and Andy re-joined the group.

"Vegas PD just confirmed that DeSalve checked in at LAX, but he never actually got on a plane."

"So he's still in LA…" Sharon placed her hands on her hips and began to pace the office, "Alright, Lieutenant's Provenza and Flynn, question our victim. Keeping your suspicions in mind Lieutenant," she addressed Provenza, "I want to know exactly what happened this morning. But considering that this DeSalve character is indeed still in town and MIA, let's treat him as our top suspect. We need her to tell us everything she can about him."

"Okay…" Provenza pushed himself out of the chair. "But I'm telling you, Captain," the astute detective groused as he wondered around his desk and past Sharon en route to the conference room, "her story stinks."

As Provenza made his way to the question their victim, Andy hovered next to Sharon until his partner was out of earshot; he leant towards Sharon and spoke in a hushed tone. "How are you holding up, Sharon?"

Sharon stepped backwards; embarrassed by his proximity she threw a cautionary glance and the remainder of her team who were busying themselves at their respective desks. "I'm fine thank you, Lieutenant," Sharon enunciated his title for effect; deftly communicating that their conversation was over.

Confusion passed behind Andy's brown eyes, but before he could respond Provenza called out from down the hall.

"Flynn, I'm not getting any younger!"

"Right," Andy muttered with a frown as he stepped backwards from Sharon; in those few seconds his confusion changed to something akin to irritation and despite some of that annoyance being caused by Provenza, Sharon couldn't help but think that a little was directed at her.

xXx

Sitting at her desk - in the privacy of her own office, Sharon stared down at two police files in front of her. The FID investigation into Detective James Banston and the LAPD report into the night Ian Banston broke into her home and threatened to kill her children.

Sharon took a deep breath as she thumbed the corner of the latter.

It had been a long time since she had faced the horrors of that night; both she and her children had undergone counselling to deal with the trauma of the home invasion. Sharon had until now, successfully compartmentalised the events of that night and the emotions that came with at the back of her mind.

The thought of revisiting them filled her with dread – but with no leads and the risk of another break in or worse looming over her, she was running out of options

She closed her eyes and bounced her legs on the balls of her feet - nervously rubbing her lips together; she opened the file and looked down.

Sharon inhaled sharply and her hand rose to her cheek; the first image to assault her eyes was the photograph of her injuries from her struggle with Ian Banston.

Her bottom lip was swollen and bloodied; the mottled blue and black bruises that mapped her left cheekbone where exaggerated by her ashen complexion. But it wasn't the struggle that passed through her mind when she saw the damage that Ian Banston had inflicted; it was the memory of seeing her children's faces as they stood helplessly by. The sound of their screams echoed around her mind, until a knock at the door dragged her from her thoughts.

She abruptly closed the file and wiped at a tear she felt rolling down her cheek, "Erm….Come in."

"Sharon?" Rusty tentatively entered Sharon's office, poking his head around door. "Can I come in?"

Sharon got to her feet and walked around the desk. "Rusty? Of course…" She gestured for him to enter and looked at her watch. "What are you doing here? Did the officers assigned to you bring you here? You are supposed to be at school."

"We had some free periods for study, don't worry I came with an escort…" he stepped into the room and swung his satchel on to the large green chair that was situated by the door. "I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"Oh I'm fine, Rusty." Sharon lied as she rested back against her desk in an attempt to look nonchalant. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Are you sure?" Rusty scratched the back of his neck, "'cause the message that was written on your bed sheet seemed kinda personal…"

Sharon winced, "you saw that huh?"

"It was hard to miss."

"Rusty, in my job I deal with a lot of unsavoury characters – but trust me when I say that this is a very unusual occurrence. I don't want you to feel unsafe in your own home."

"I don't. I just wanted to, you know, check that you were alright."

"I'm tough as old boots," she joked, as she moved to drape an arm around his shoulders, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Now you head back to study group, you have an English test to study for."

"Don't remind me," Rusty rolled his eyes picking up his school bag as Sharon steered him out of her office and towards the elevators. "Can I play Playstation when I get in tonight? Kevin has one of the same games I do - I can play him online."

"That should be fine," she smiled warmly. "But come by here on your way home – I still need to arrange security detail for the apartment.

"Okay," he shrugged as they stopped by the elevators – seemingly not fazed by that revelation; a reminder of how tough his short life had been. "Is last night's takeout still in the fridge?"

"It is," the elevator opened and Rusty boarded, sidestepping a uniformed police officer who was getting off on their floor. "Now get back to school."

"Yes ma'am. Bye Sharon."

Sharon gave him a wave and turned on her heel to head back to her office, but was blocked by the officer that had just exited the elevator. "Captain Raydor?"

"Yes?" Sharon eyed the young man suspiciously, her gaze drawn to the package that he held under his arm.

"There's a delivery for you."

"There is?" It was a little soon for the key-chain from Jackson to have arrived, and the box was too large to just hold a key chain.

"Yeah, we signed for it downstairs…" he held the package out to Sharon and at her reluctance he added, "it's been through the scanners."

"Of course it has," Sharon smiled thinly and accepted the package from the officer; the box was incredibly light.

'Maybe it was the keychain after all.'

"Thank you," She called over her shoulder as she made her way back to the murder room.

She was met by the surly tones of Lieutenant Provenza, "our 'witness' said that DeSalve has relatives in Vegas – that's where he was going. She has no idea why he would have changed his mind as she hasn't heard from him since Jessica's murder."

Sharon placed the box on the corner of Andy's empty desk and reached for a pair of scissors to slice through the tape that secured it. "Other than this online PA competition, is there anything linking DeSalve to our first victim?"

"Well, DeSalve is gay," Andy entered the room carrying two cups of coffee and joined the conversation, "so we can take out romantic entanglement. Amber gave us the name of a sister that he has living in LA, maybe she'll be able to tell us a bit more about him."

"Alright," Sharon stiffened as Andy brushed past her and took a seat at his desk. "What about Miss Moore's account of what happened this morning? Is there any holes you can pick in…Oh my god!"

Sharon dropped the scissors on the floor and stepped backwards from the box, a hand covering her mouth, her gaze fixed on the macabre contents of the package.

Photographs from her own collection filled the large box; each photograph had been defaced – Sharon had been crudely removed from all the pictures. Central to the display was the photograph that had been taken from Jackson's key-ring, a pink post-it note was attached to the bottom reading…

'If I can't be happy, then why should you be?"

Sharon cautioned a glance at Andy, who was staring at the delivery, wide eyed. "Sick, son of a bitch…"

Provenza, seeing their shocked reaction, curiously stalked over to the desk and peered in the box, "What the hell is this?" His gazed alternating between Flynn and the Captain, "Sharon, what the hell is going on?"

TBC


	9. Friendly Advice

Chapter 9

As Provenza shut the door to Captain Raydor's office behind him - the rest of the team looked on; concern evident on all of their faces.

The lieutenant turned around to face his superior; a heavy scowl creasing his brow.

The Captain stood next to her chair, staring expressionlessly into the recently delivered box that sat atop her desk. Her skin was ashen, one arm was wrapped around her waist, the other held tightly to her side.

Flynn hovered nearby, watching her closely - twitching, Provenza thought - to offer her some form comfort.

"Alright you two," the Lieutenant strode purposefully towards them, jabbing a finger in the direction of the package. "What the hell is this thing?"

Sharon glanced at Andy and nodded softly, silently granting him permission to explain – seemingly unable to do so herself.

"You remember a detective from vice - name of Banston?" Andy asked, clasping his hands in front of him.

"James Banston?" Provenza's eyebrows retreated to his hairline.

"Yeah,"

"I know of him," Provenza shrugged, "dirty cop. A bunch of 'em from his department were shopped for human trafficking charges back in the 90's," he looked to Sharon. "Some of your former department's finer work I might add."

"That's the guy," Andy continued. "Spineless bastard topped himself before his trial – but not before putting his wife in a coma I might add."

"Don't speak about him like that." Sharon entered the conversation, her tone flat; both lieutenants' turned and stared at her in stunned silence. "You didn't know Jimmy," she elaborated.

"You're kidding, right?" Andy interrupted exasperatedly, "How can you defend the guy, Sharon?"

"It's complicated, lieutenant." Sharon spoke through a clenched jaw, arms crossed at her chest - her gaze focussed squarely on Flynn. "Move on."

Provenza watched their exchange closely; the tension between them was palpable. He knew that Flynn was prone to overt displays of emotion from time to time, but his reaction to the Captain defending Banston was a little extreme – even for him.

"Fine." Andy seethed, then turned his attention back to Provenza. "After Jimmy attacked his wife and put her in a coma that ultimately lead to her death, he left behind 2 kids that became award of the state. The girl died when she was a teenager, but the eldest kid Ian - he turned out to be a real piece of work…"

"How so?" In his peripheral vision, Provenza saw Sharon slowly lower herself on to her chair.

"Ian has always blamed me for what happened to his family," she explained; her voice wavering slightly. "His father and I went through the academy together; we were close. " Sharon dropped her gaze to her desk. "I had just joined Internal Affairs when I learned that there was going to be an investigation into vice. Jimmy's behaviour aroused my suspicion…so I went to see him…"

"You broke the rules?" Provenza asked incredulously.

Sharon lifted her head sharply to look at him and he almost didn't recognise her; she seemed softer somehow, her green eyes void of their usual coolness. "I didn't want to believe it."

"Alright," Provenza rested back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "So what happened?"

"Oh, he was involved, alright." Andy piped up as he moved to stand behind Sharon. "Bastard only tried to set the Captain up; cover his own ass by using her as an alibi – said they were having an affair," he scoffed. "Which-they-weren't."

Provenza scowled at his partners' bizarre behaviour, before turning his attention back to Sharon as she added quietly, "but Ian believed that his dad was telling the truth."

"So what did he do?"

"He broke into my home and threatened my family." She answered matter-of-factly.

Provenza shifted uncomfortably in his chair. In the back of his mind, he recalled Sharon being involved in a shooting at her home – but at the time she was Internal Affairs – suffice to say that he hadn't shown much interest in the case.

"Where's the son now?"

"He's at Ridgewater Psychiatric."

Provenza nodded in the direction of the box, "is this his M.O?"

Sharon shook her head, "Ian would send me letters and creepy cards…but this box…he was never this creative."

"He have any visitors?"

"No," Sharon rested back in her chair. "I've spoken with the doctors at Ridgewater – he's had no visits from anybody other than a lawyer since his incarceration."

"This lawyer got a name?"

"Lieutenant Provenza, I appreciate your concern – but as a team we already have a case to solve. Robbery homicide are dealing with the investigation – they have it covered."

"Well," Provenza got to his feet. "Robbery homicide couldn't find their asses with both hands; Flynn and I have got this."

"That's not true Lieutenant." Sharon followed suit and rose, resting her weight on her knuckles atop the desk. "I'm asking you to leave it alone."

"Sharon look," Provenza threw a glance at Andy before continuing. "Don't take this the wrong way – you are liked and respected by this team. But to a lot of the LAPD, you are still the enemy; how much serious attention do you really think they will be giving your case?"

Sharon stood up straight, seemingly taken aback by the Lieutenants frankness.

"Provenza's right Captain – look what happened last time," Andy moved around the desk to stand by his partner. "Any other cop and Ian Banston would have been in custody in a heart-beat."

"The rest of the squad can handle the actress case," Provenza pressed his point. "Just let us just do a little under the radar digging to see what we can find."

Sharon contemplated their words, her gaze shifting between her two lieutenants before coming to rest on the photographs of her family in the box. "Alright," she said finally; definitively. "Lieutenant Provenza see what you can find out – but Lieutenant Flynn, you will remain on the current case."

Flynn opened his mouth to protest but Sharon cut him off before he could speak. "Assistant Chief Taylor cannot know about this; having both of you MIA during such a high profile investigation - doubles the chances of him finding out. I will not take that chance, is that clear?"

"Crystal," Andy bristled, but complied with the order from his superior.

Provenza's eyes narrowed - he had his suspicions that it was actually his partners' behaviour that had influenced the Captains' decision. It was clear that Flynn was too emotionally involved to be objective…Provenza wasn't entirely sure what to take from that. "You want me to pull Rusty out of school?" He offered, changing the subject.

"No, let's not alarm him," Sharon shook her head sharply. "Increase his protective detail and bring them up to date. I want him to be brought to the apartment straight from school."

"Wait, you're not going to a hotel?"

"Absolutely not,"

"Captain…" Provenza protested, amazed that he of all people was about to recite protocol to the queen of the LAPD rule book.

"We will not be scared out of our own home."

"Then we should do another sweep of your apartment." Flynn interjected, apparently sensing an opportunity to remain involved in the case. "You didn't know the photographs were missing – what if you didn't notice something that the perp left behind?"

The Captain paled slightly; it appeared that this was something she had not yet considered.

Sensing his partners' eagerness to keep an eye on Sharon, Provenza threw him a bone; "Flynn - ensure that the Captain and Rusty have extra detail and sweep the apartment with a fine toothed comb; I'll hold the fort here until you get back – I'll do some digging from the comfort of my desk."

Andy raised his hands in surrender as Sharon shot him a glance, "and then I will go back to the actress case. I promise."

"Fine," Sharon reluctantly agreed. "But remember…"she pointed a finger at Provenza, "…under the radar."

"Oh I am an expert in keeping things from Russell Taylor," Provenza assured the Captain as he opened the door to leave her office. "You have nothing to worry about."

xXx

Captain Raydor silently watched Provenza, then Flynn leave her office; already regretting involving yet another of her detectives in her personal matters.

But Sharon didn't only have herself to think about.

She looked down solemnly at the collection of pictures that lay in the bottom of the box; surrounded by those of her two children, sat a single photograph of Rusty.

She tucked her hair behind her ears, her hands coming to rest around her jaw; the arrival of the package confirmed that her children were now targets too – all three of them.

Sharon picked up her phone and punched in the number for the switchboard, "Lieutenant Grundy, please." She happened a glance towards the door way and noticed Andy was still loitering. "No, I'll hold, thank you." Sharon rested the phone on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Andy - I thought that you had left…Was there something else?"

"Captain," Andy took a tentative step back into her office.

"Oh..erm…Lieutenant Grundy, hi – this is Captain Raydor." Sharon signalled with her left hand for Andy to wait, "there has been a development in my case," she turned towards the window as she spoke. "I've received a delivery to my office, I would appreciate it if one of your detectives were to come up and collect it…ok. Thank you."

When Sharon turned to place the phone back on its cradle, she realised that Andy was nowhere in sight.

xXx

"Flynn!" Provenza barked at Andy as he hovered in the doorway to the Captain's office.

Flynn turned on his heel, a frown firmly in place.

"What are you doing?" Provenza got to his feet and walked around the desk towards his partner.

"I'm waiting to speak with the Captain," Andy shrugged and signalled towards Sharon's office, "she's on the phone."

"Come with me." Provenza signalled with his head towards the break room and Flynn dutifully followed behind.

Provenza held the break room door open and Andy entered, a slightly confused expression beginning to form on his face.

"What the hell is wrong with you today?" Provenza shut the door behind them.

"What do you mean what's wrong with me?" Flynn answered defensively. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

"You Flynn." Provenza jabbed a finger at his partner. "You are the matter with me. What is going on between you and the Captain?"

"This again?" Flynn rolled his eyes. "I told you this morning – nothing happened last night. I spent the night on her couch and she slept in a bed."

"What's with the passive aggressive bullshit between you two then, huh?"

"Beats me! One minute she's opening up to me about her past and now….I don't know, maybe she's embarrassed about sharing stuff with me…"

"Stuff?"

"About the case," Andy answered quickly, "about Ian Banston and what happened. I asked her earlier if she was alright and she clammed up on me. Then she tells me I can't work her case when I already know more about it than you do…"

"Did you stop to think that maybe it's because you are acting so emotional?"

"I'm not being emotional!" Contrary to his statement - Andy threw his hands in the air and Provenza simply raised his eyebrows in response; a sardonic expression painting his features.

"I am not being emotional," Andy repeated more calmly this time before adding solemnly, "Sharon's just not as tough as she makes out, you know…I worry about her."

"Andy, did you stop to think that maybe Sharon confided in you because you are a friend?"

"What's your point?"

"Well, perhaps because you are considered a friend, it means you are too close to work on her case?"

Andy stalled, "You think?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah," a lopsided smile crept across his lips. "Yeah, you're probably right. She's not mad at me – she just thinks I'm too close to the case."

Provenza watched his partners' reaction to this revelation and his eyes widened, realisation dawning; "Oh dear God, Flynn."

"What?" Andy's confused expression was back.

"You like her!"

"What?"

"The Captain."

"I do not."

"Oh I've seen that needy expression in your eyes before, Flynn." Provenza screwed his face up. "You like Raydor."

"Well, so what if I do?" Andy snapped defensively. "She's attractive, intelligent…"

"Your commanding officer…"

"Oh come on! We're both practically retired – no one cares if we…"

"Don't even say it!" Provenza held his hands up. "I could do without the metal image." He started to walk towards the doorway then stopped and turning back to face Andy. "Does she know?"

"No." Flynn responded emphatically.

"Good. Why don't you keep it that way?"

"Why?"

"Flynn, this is Raydor! The wicked witch remember?"

"Don't call her that."

"The woman has the LAPD rulebook memorised!"

"It's not against the rules. We'd just have to make sure that we inform our superior officers…"

"Have you met Taylor? You think he'd let you continue to both work in Major Crimes?"

"He might…"

"There's a possibility." Provenza nodded. "But do you really expect Raydor to risk losing such a prestigious position for a woman in the LAPD – on a maybe?"

Andy looked crushed and Provenza felt a pang of guilt; maybe his colleague's appreciation for their Captain ran deeper than he had initially thought. Flynn had a habit for falling for the unattainable; it was like he loved the challenge, the chase…but from his current wounded puppy expression, it appeared to Provenza that he may in fact see more in Sharon than a conquest.

"Look," He took pity on his friend. "Just promise me that you will really think about this and not just blurt it out to her in her office, okay? This is huge Flynn; career ending huge – so just give it some thought."

Provenza then turned towards the doorway and promptly left the room, silently hoping that his hot-headed friend would just this once take heed.


	10. Sprung

You'll Get Yours – Chapter 10

Sharon sat behind her desk, quietly contemplating the second delivery she had received that day. Between her fingertips she held a small plastic bag containing the empty photo key-ring from Jackson's key chain – the photograph from which was already in evidence.

The picture had been taken in a photo-booth whilst her family were on vacation in Florida. They were happy times; before Sharon joined FID…before Jackson left…before the whole mess with Jimmy started.

She felt sick.

Could it be simply a coincidence that the photograph used as a centrepiece in the macabre display, was also a snap shot from the last joint vacation her family took with the Banston's?

Sharon doubted it.

That insight to her families past could not be found in any crime report or evidence bag. The only people that could know that level of information would have had to have been there on that day, or have discussed the specifics with somebody that was.

With every member of the Banston family dead or incarcerated, that only left her own.

Sharon had spoken with her children; Ricky could remember the vacation and the photograph being taken, but Kathryn had been too young at the time to really remember anything. Neither of her children had discussed that trip with anyone – which only left her estranged husband.

Jackson, of course, had denied everything. Unfortunately, in that large window of time between Sharon giving her husband a key to her apartment and the break-in, there was no guarantee of his sobriety.

She could just imagine Jack sat at a bar, hunched over his scotch, clutching the key-ring whilst nostalgically recounting their last vacation as a family to anybody that would listen; he always was an emotional drunk.

A knock at the door startled Sharon, dragging her from her memories and causing her to drop the evidence bag onto the desk. The Captain steeled herself with a cleansing breath; she adjusted her glasses and straightened her posture.

"Come in."

Detective Sykes opened the door sharply, "Captain, our missing agent's sister is on her way up."

"Thank you, Amy," Sharon pushed back from the desk and got to her feet; despite her personal predicament, Major Crimes still had a case to solve.

Ignoring the protests of Lieutenant Provenza, Sharon had decided to stay at the office and speak with Margo Smithson – the sister of agent to the stars Franco DeSalve - before she returned to her apartment. "Have we had any further developments in tracking down Mr DeSalve?"

"No ma'am," Sykes shook her head. "Lieutenant Tao is looking at the agent's phone records, and Detective Sanchez and I are heading out to the airport to check security footage."

Sharon spied Lieutenant Provenza from across the room, beavering away at his desk; a tightness formed in her gut – had he started work on her case already?

"Lieutenant Flynn?" She asked trying to sound casual; Andy had been hovering around Sharon all day. Although his concern for her wellbeing was endearing – for some reason his proximity unnerved her.

"With our suspect's sister, Captain."

"Alright," Sharon picked up the bag containing the key-ring and outstretched her arm towards the younger detective. "Can you see that Detective Grundy in Robbery Homicide gets this please?"

"Yes, Captain." Sykes took the proffered evidence bag, but made no move to leave.

"Was there something else, Detective Sykes?" Sharon asked casually as she donned her dark grey suit-jacket, pulling her hair free from under the collar.

"No, Ma'am," Amy took a step backwards – beginning her retreat to the murder room. "I'll drop this into Detective Grundy right away."

The Captain nodded her thanks with a tight smile, relieved that Amy had decided not to press her about recent events.

She buttoned her jacket, smoothed her purple dress around her hips and confident that her Captain Raydor armour was back in place, she followed Amy into the murder room.

"Excuse me, Buzz?"

"Yes Captain?" Buzz looked up from his monitor and got to his feet.

"We will be questioning Mrs Smithson in Interview 1, can you set up in the comms room please?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." Sharon then turned her attention to Lieutenant Tao, "Mike, did you find anything on our suspect's social networking accounts that might be useful?"

"Not yet, Captain – but I'm running the numbers on his cell phone from the night that he disappeared; hopefully that will give us something to work with."

"Alright, thank you..." Sharon then looked to Provenza who was currently on the phone; she slowly made her way over to him – reaching his desk just as he was finishing up the call.

The Captain was still unsure about allowing a member of her team to investigate her case - and it wasn't just the Russell Taylor factor that made her uncomfortable. Past experience had turned Sharon into a fiercely private person - one not at all used to having colleagues so involved in her personal matters.

"Between six and eight – got it thanks." Provenza placed the phone back on the receiver and instantly responded to his superiors questioning gaze. "Visiting hours at Ridgewater Psychiatric," he explained. "Once Flynn gets back from the second sweep of your apartment – I'm going to pay this Ian Banston a visit."

"Lieutenant Provenza," Sharon protested, "I appreciate your…"

"Let's not do this again, Captain." Provenza interrupted her as he got to his feet and grabbed a coffee mug from the desk.

"Lieutenant?" Sharon questioned him, a little taken back at his abruptness.

"Stop worrying about Taylor," he waved his hand dismissively in the air. "He won't suspect a thing."

Sharon crossed her arms defensively over her chest. "That may be true, Lieutenant -"

"Look, I don't know how it was in Internal Affairs, Captain," Provenza cut in again, gesticulating with the empty coffee mug in hand. "But here in Major Crimes, we look out for our own; nothing you say is going to stop me and Flynn from finding out who this creep is that's been threatening you."

Sharon dropped her hands to her side; she was more than a little touched by the crotchety Lieutenant's open acceptance of her as 'one of their own', but she gathered herself quickly; a fleeting smile touching her lips.

"That's Flynn and I, Lieutenant." Sharon corrected his phrasing teasingly, but her smile portrayed genuine appreciation for his words.

Before Provenza could retort with his own dose of sarcasm, Andy entered the murder room with Margo Smithson in tow.

xXx

"Well that was a waste of time," Flynn returned to the office after showing Margo Smithson to the elevators.

The interview with the suspect sister hadn't shed any new light on the whereabouts of their suspect; the process had also taken them much longer than expected. It appeared that DeSalve wasn't particularly popular with his own family; but that didn't stop Margo Smithson from telling the detectives why – at length. Unfortunately, while good for building a character profile – most of what she'd had to say was irrelevant.

The team had now gathered by the murder board to see if collectively, they could find a new angle on the case.

"It wasn't entirely a waste of time..." Sharon frowned as she processed the information on the board. "Margo Smithson said that she hadn't spoken to her brother since he was charged with assaulting one of his clients," Captain Raydor looked down at her interview notes, then to her team. "A Miss Leanne McGrath."

"An aspiring folk singer apparently," Andy held up the crime report on his desk. "File says the creep got a little handsy with her after a show."

Sharon frowned, "but didn't Amber Moore tell you in her statement earlier today, that her Agent was gay Lieutenant?"

"Maybe he's not too fussy." Provenza shrugged.

"Or maybe she's lying." Sanchez chipped in.

"Maybe…but why?" Sharon looked back to the board and Amber Moore's timeline, before turning to address Lieutenant Tao. "Mike, have you found any anomalies with Mr DeSalve's phone records?"

"Just that he received a phone call at 5:25pm, 10 minutes after he checked in at LAX. The phone call came from a payphone near Griffith Park; that was the last incoming or outgoing call to his cell."

"Who uses payphones anymore?" Provenza grumbled as he got to his feet, swiping a board marker from his desk.

"Someone who doesn't want to be traced." Andy offered as he came to stand next to Sharon.

"The security footage from LAX confirms it, Captain." Sykes spoke up. "DeSalve answers his cell, talks heatedly to someone for approximately 3 minutes then leaves the airport."

"He took a cab," Sanchez elaborated. "I contacted the company – they said they'd dropped him at his place at approximately 7pm and no one has seen him since."

"He's not used his credit cards, his social media accounts…" Tao continued.

"So," Sharon paced walkway between the desks. "Somebody who doesn't want to be traced, calls our suspect…"

"…And then DeSalve vanishes off the face of the earth." Provenza, who was in the process of updating the timeline turned to the team, board-marker in hand. "Call this a hunch, but I'm starting to think that our suspect may in fact, be another victim."

xXx

With the team busy looking into Franco DeSalve's private affairs, Captain Raydor decided to deal with her own.

She had left them in the very capable hands of Lieutenant Provenza and true to her word, Sharon was heading home to 're-sweep' her apartment – which evidently was something that her lieutenants believed she was incapable of doing by herself.

She glanced in the rear view mirror to check if Andy's vehicle was still following a few cars behind.

"Of course it is." She muttered to herself sarcastically as she turned up the air conditioning; LA was stiflingly hot today.

As Andy had to return to the office after they were done, they had travelled to her apartment in separate cars - which was a welcome relief to Sharon; she savoured the silence of her vehicle and her personal space.

Andy had been following her around all day; asking her if she was ok, loitering on the periphery, looking at her like she was fragile – like she might at any moment just shatter into a million pieces.

He was worried about her, she knew – but Sharon also knew how to defend herself. She didn't need him to worry about her; she needed him to do his job.

"Shit!" Sharon slammed on her breaks - causing the car behind to honk their horn; so absorbed in her thoughts was she, that she'd almost run a red light.

Sharon internally chastised herself as she simultaneously apologised to the woman behind with a wave of her arm and switched the radio on; hoping to tune into the music and get out of her own head.

'And it's too late, baby, now it's too late  
Though we really did try to make it  
Something inside has died  
And I can't hide and I just can't fake it'

As Sharon allowed the velvet tones of Carole King to calm her wrought nerves, the lights turned green and she stepped on the gas.

She knew that she was being unfair to Andy; she hadn't been standoffish when Lieutenant Tao asked her about the break in, or annoyed when Lieutenant Provenza checked for the third time that day 'how she was holding up'.

'So why is Andy's attention bothering me?'

When Captain Raydor had initially taken over Major Crimes, Andy seemed more of an adversary than a comrade; it felt to Sharon like their friendship had almost snuck up on her – taking her entirely by surprise. But over the last couple of months, there appeared to have been another shift in their relationship; a shift that their time spent together last night had brought to the forefront of her mind.

A woman knows when a man is interested - and Andy Flynn was definitely interested.

And if she were truly honest with herself, deep down Sharon knew that she was developing an affection for her lieutenant that went beyond the realms of the purely platonic.

She cringed inwardly when she recalled the disappointment she had felt that morning - awaking to find that Andy had already left her apartment; how she had smiled like an idiot at the note he had left her…

"Oh God…" She groaned as she turned into a side street, finally understanding the source of her recent frustration; Sharon wasn't mad at Andy - she was scared about how he made her feel.

"I'm married." She voiced her inner protest – as if hearing those words would help to shake her feelings for Andy – but instead, and not for the first time, she questioned her marriage to Jackson.

Sharon had thought about filing for divorce on many occasions – but in 20 years, her motivation had never been another man. Oddly enough, there had always been more reasons not to file for divorce; some were financial, some were religious…and some were a little more complex.

Ultimately however, years of virtual solitude had rendered Sharon feeling more than a little awkward about relationships.

Having purposefully kept her distance from co-workers whilst working in FID - and not having much time to socialise outside of work – Sharon was a little out of practice. The thought of being emotionally intimate with another man made her feel uncomfortable…and the physical side of things upped that anxiety tenfold.

Although Sharon kept fit and had always looked after herself – there was no denying that carrying and nursing two children, had taken its toll on her body; nothing was where it used to be.

Her husband knew all of this – and he didn't care. Still being married to Jackson did come with certain…marital privileges…which from time to time, when her husband was in LA, Sharon had indulged in. She could always chalk those times down to momentary lapses of sanity, but the truth was, they were still extremely compatible in bed; after all these years, Jackson could still make her toes curl. Sharon was human - she had needs and her husband was just…convenient.

She'd been hiding behind her broken marriage, hiding behind her job, hiding behind her excuses…but the thought of stepping out from behind those things was terrifying.

As she drove her vehicle into the parking garage of her apartment, Sharon laughed wryly at the absurdity of her situation; there were threats being made against her life and she'd just spent a twenty minute car journey thinking about men.

"Get a grip, Sharon." she told herself firmly as she undid her seatbelt and reached for her purse – but as Andy joined her in the garage her bravado was instantly dimmed by the flutter of nerves in her belly.

Sharon swallowed audibly, "oh God."

xXx

The tension was palpable.

The ride in the elevator to Sharon's apartment was spent in a silence that was far from comfortable; Andy didn't know where to put himself. Although Sharon's frostiness towards him seemed to have dissipated, it had been replaced with an awkwardness that he didn't quite understand.

She had greeted him from his car casually and made small talk about their case, but Sharon's body language displayed anything but comfort and her conversation appeared forced.

'Did something happen on the way over here?' 

He shoved his hands in his pockets and watched the elevator light up numbers on the board as it ascended; Sharon's odd behaviour, Andy supposed, could be put down to the task ahead of them…But she seemed almost jittery – and Captain Raydor was anything but jittery.

He followed her silently down the hall to her apartment; she came to a halt at the front door and fished around in her purse for a key.

"A new key," Sharon explained, breaking the uncomfortable silence as she slipped it into the lock. "I had the locks changed this morning."

"Smart move." Andy responded as she pushed the door open and they crossed the threshold to her apartment.

He hovered in the entrance way as Sharon removed her shoes and dropped her keys on the phone table. "Would you like a drink, Lieutenant?" She called over her shoulder as she moved purposefully into the apartment.

Andy slowly followed Sharon around the corner and into the living area where he could see that she was rummaging around in the refrigerator.

"I'm good thanks," he leant against the kitchen counter and watched as she fought with the packaging on a six pack of bottled water.

She finally pulled a bottle of Evian free from its cardboard fortress and shut the refrigerator door.

"Okay," she looked to Andy fleetingly and skirted around him – quickly crossing the apartment. "I'm going to get a head start in the bedroom," she stopped walking momentarily. "I mean sweep," she corrected the 'double entendre' quickly with a wave of her hand, but didn't turn around to face him. "I'm going to start the sweep in the bedroom."

"Alright..." Andy frowned; that was a barely dirty faux-pas – if Sharon hadn't just reacted the way she did, he would have missed the sexual innuendo completely. But rather than tease her about it, as he watched her scurry away from him, his concern for her won out. "Captain?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Sharon stopped by the doorway to her bedroom and hesitantly turned to face him, the hand not clutching the bottle of water seeking out a pocket in her blazer.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his brow furrowed.

"I fine, Andy," Sharon nodded once, her stoic mask firmly in place. "I'm just anxious to get the sweep started, that's all." With that, she turned away from him and entered her bedroom.

xXx

"I have no idea what I'm looking for." Andy muttered to himself as he looked over the items on the shelves behind Sharon's dining table. "And I have no idea what that is…" He crouched, frowning at a clay sculpture that sat on the top shelf.

'I've only been here once before, how the hell could I know what should and should not be here?'

Andy sighed and removed his jacket, hanging it over the back of a chair; this was ridiculous. Both he and Sharon knew that the only reason he had offered to sweep her apartment was so that he could keep an eye on her.

'So why is she keeping up the pretence?'

After floating around cluelessly in the living room for about 30 minutes, Andy decided that he'd had enough of searching through Sharon's vast collection 'arty ornaments.'

'Why do women need all of this stuff?'

He finally admitted defeat and headed to the bedroom to see Sharon - when he reached the room, he wished he'd quit sooner.

Sharon was perched on the bed, staring at the wall ahead of her; in her arms she clung to what looked to Andy like a tattered journal or album.

"You've cleaned up fast." He observed the room as he tentatively entered; gone were the strewn undergarments and the offensive bedspread that was now in evidence - it had been replaced by a crisp white comforter with deep purple cushions and a matching throw.

"I threw most of it in the trash this morning," Sharon responded flatly without otherwise acknowledging his presence.

"Right," he came to stand in front of her. "Did you find something?"

Sharon dropped her gaze to the elaborately decorated photo album that she clutched to her chest and sniffed. Reluctantly, and with her eyes focussed on her lap - she offered it up to Andy.

"My son made that album for me in fourth grade." Sharon spoke into her chest as Andy flicked through the pages of the album; instead of displaying family photographs that matched the handwritten captions, each page was scrawled with the same message.

'You'll get yours, bitch.'

"Oh God, Sharon. I'm sorry…"

"Yeah, well…" She got to her feet and straightening her posture she left the room. "…So am I."

"For what?" Andy called after Sharon, placing the album on the bed, before following her into the living area. "What the hell do you have to be sorry for?"

"This!" She raised her voice and spun to face Andy - looking at him properly for the first time since they had gotten to her apartment; her green eyes were glazed with unshed tears. "This whole mess is my fault, Andy! I caused this 10 years ago and it is happening again now. I should never have gone to see Jimmy that night."

"Sharon, you didn't know…"

"I was stupid!" She abruptly cut him off. "I went against my better judgement and as a consequence put my children's lives at risk….and now it is happening all over again and I cannot…" her breath caught and she paused to steel herself; to prevent the tears from falling. "…I cannot even guarantee the safety of Rusty in my own home – Andy, what if they take him away from me…I…"

"Sharon," Andy couldn't watch anymore; he stepped forward and took her into his arms - to his surprise she offered no resistance. "Rusty isn't going anywhere."

He wrapped his arms tighter around her shoulders as they shook with emotion - he felt the warmth of her tears soaking through his shirt. "The kid has security detail on him wherever he goes – he couldn't be safer anywhere than here with you."

Sharon's hands clutched at Andy's hips as she tried to breathe deeply – attempting to fight back her tears and compose herself. Andy ran his hand soothingly through hair until she pulled back slightly, releasing her grip on his hips.

"I'm sorry to cry on you, Andy." She looked at him through bloodshot eyes, her porcelain complexion was blotchy from spent tears. "I think it is all just hitting me, I…"

"It's ok," Andy pushed a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear – his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "If it was me, I'd be a total wreck," he joked.

She smiled thinly at the gesture, before a slight frown creased her brow. "Andy, I'm sorry that I have been a little off with you today…"

"It's understandable," He squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "You've been through a lot…"

"No," she shook her head and looked at her bare feet. "No, I have treated you unfairly."

"We're friends. You think I'm too close to your case, so you gave the job to Provenza," he shrugged. "I get it - its fine."

"No, Andy that's not it." Sharon paused to nervously lick her lips and took a step backwards – putting distance between them. "I allowed Lieutenant Provenza to investigate my case, because I'm worried that I am getting too close to you."

"Come again?"

"Andy, I'm not exactly sure what this thing is that's developing between us…but it appears to be evolving beyond simple friendship and that unnerves me. I know that you sense it too."

"Sense it?" A lopsided smile touched Andy's lips at the very notion that she may feel the same way. "Sharon, it's been driving me crazy."

But Sharon didn't share in his mirth, "whatever it is, Andy - it has to stop."

"Why?" He asked incredulously.

"You know why."

"Sharon," he protested, taking a step towards her – closing the space between them. "We're not doing anything wrong."

"Not yet."

'Not yet?' Sharon's words swirled around Andy's mind as he dropped his gaze to her lips. 'She's struggling with this as much as I am.'

"Andy," she pleaded with him, yet didn't back away. "This is not an option; I am married and I am your boss. We have to stop this now."

"I'm sorry Sharon," his gaze locked with hers and he heard her breath hitch. "But I don't know that I can." Without a second thought, Andy leant down and captured her lips with his own…but her lips remained tense and unmoving.

He pulled away - terrified that he had just made an awful mistake. 'What have I done?'

Sharon stared at him wide eyed; Andy watched as she raised a hand to her face - her fingers tentatively touching her lips. He could see the barrage of emotions playing out behind her eyes.

"Sharon I'm sorry," Andy ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what came over me I…"

"Don't," she said flatly, her expression conveying absolutely nothing – before she moved swiftly towards him. "Don't apologise."

Andy stumbled back as Sharon's lips crashed into his; she had caught him completely off guard. As his legs connected with the back of the couch, he wrapped his arms around her waist - deepening the kiss – his tongue stroking deliciously against hers for the first time.

It felt amazing – and yet it wasn't enough.

Sharon moaned into his mouth as his hands dropped - palming her rear – pulling her towards him as she untucked his shirt from his pants.

'Is this really happening?' Andy asked himself as he broke from the kiss to run his lips down Sharon's throat, pushing his hips into hers – knowing that she could feel her effect on him through the fabric of her dress. 'We shouldn't do this now – Sharon's upset – I'm taking advantage…'

Unfortunately, Andy didn't get a chance to voice his concerns; at that very moment the front door to the apartment swung open.

"Sharon, I'm home!"

Sharon leapt back from Andy in lighting speed, but it was too late; Rusty stood in the entrance way to the apartment, his mouth agape at the sight before him.

"Rusty this is not what it looks like," Sharon explained lamely and Andy grabbed a scatter cushion from the couch to hide the evidence to the contrary.

Rusty didn't move, his gaze running back and forth between them – his expression one of both confusion and horror.

Sharon looked distraught; she shakily ran her hands through her hair and straightened her dress before taking a step towards the young man – her arm outstretched – but he instantly recoiled.

"I'm just," he stammered, looking embarrassed - his grip tightening on his school bag. "I'm just going to go to my room now."

With that, Rusty turned on his heel and quickly retreated to the safety of his bedroom - leaving Sharon and Andy in yet another uncomfortable silence.

TBC


	11. Ridgewater

You'll Get Yours – Chapter 11

The sound of Rusty's bedroom door slamming, reverberated through Andy's bones; he watched as Sharon, who still had her back to him, flinched at the unexpected force with which the door was shut.

Andy felt helpless; his heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears, his gut was tight and his palms were sweaty. "Sharon I…" He edged towards her, dropping the cushion - that he had hastily grabbed to hide his excitement - back onto the couch.

"Don't." Sharon spoke flatly as she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. "Not now."

Andy remained frozen between Sharon and the couch; he was in a state of flux - his mind screaming 'What the hell did we just do?'

He looked on hopelessly as Sharon began to retrace Rusty's steps to the bedroom, however unexpectedly – she came to a halt in the foyer. "Later," she muttered weakly- her words were barely audible to Andy's ears, but before he could respond, she looked over her shoulder at him. Her expression was unreadable, but this time her words held considerably more conviction, "I'll call you later."

"Alright," Andy answered with a frown; he felt unsure if Sharon offering to call him later was a good thing – but instead of approaching with his usual bravado and questioning her motives, he simply retreated to the dining table to grab his jacket.

Andy had no doubt where their heated petting had been heading; Sharon had come at him with such force and shown no inclination to slow things down.

'If the kid had entered a few minutes later…' Andy cringed inwardly at the thought; had that happened, Sharon may have had a little more explaining to do.

'Does she regret it?' 

As he approached the door to exit her apartment, he glanced down the hallway to see Sharon standing outside Rusty's room - poised to knock. They locked eyes for a brief moment, allowing Andy to glimpse her concern for the boy in her expression.

Andy knew then that now was not the time to have his own questions answered; in that moment, the only relationship that mattered to Sharon was of that with her foster son.

The lieutenant silently nodded his understanding, and quietly left the apartment.

xXx

Sharon heard the front door click shut; she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, resting her palm flat against Rusty's door on her exhale.

'What the hell just happened?'

She couldn't remember the last time she had let herself go like that. Sharon's excuses - her values - were all shattered into tiny pieces the instant that Andy's lips touched hers. So caught up in the sensation was she, that she had completely forgotten Rusty was even due home…

'How could I have been so irresponsible? So…selfish?'

But now was not the time for self-reflection. Bracing herself with yet another cleansing breath, Sharon knocked softly on the door.

"Rusty," her voice sounded distant, even to her own ears. "Can I come in?"

Sharon backed into the hallway's end table as the door opened abruptly, revealing Rusty with a stony expression on his face. He eyed his foster mother suspiciously, before his gaze travelled curiously down the corridor. "Is it safe to come out?"

"Of course," Sharon answered without missing a beat, as Rusty moved past her and walked down the hall towards the kitchen. "Please, Rusty," she followed behind, "let me explain."

"No need," Rusty waved his hand dismissively as he rounded the corner and opened the refrigerator door. "I lived in a car with my mom and her boyfriend remember? Trust me, I've seen worse."

Rusty's words were like dagger through Sharon's heart; she stopped suddenly in the hallway as if she had just been slapped in the face. 'My actions remind him of his mother…' She felt sick, "Rusty I…"

The young man poked his head out from the kitchen; upon observing Sharon's wounded expression, he appeared to take pity on her. "Look, Sharon," he softened his tone and the shut refrigerator door. "You asked me to come home straight from school," he crossed the apartment, strolling slowly towards her. "If you and Lieutenant Flynn wanted some 'alone time' – all you had to do was ask."

"Alone time?" Sharon's brow furrowed. "Rusty, what happened wasn't planned…and I…I would never ask that of you. Rusty, this is your home."

"Right," he responded half-heartedly and retreated to the sitting area; flopping down heavily on to the couch.

"Rusty," Sharon continued in a pleading tone, trying to express her remorse for making him feel uncomfortable in their home; needing him to know that he was loved and safe. "I am so sorry that you had to witness that…"

"Sorry your secrets out, you mean."

"My secret?" Sharon was taken aback, her confusion led her into the sitting area. "Rusty what on earth are you talking about?"

"About you and Lieutenant Flynn." Rusty spat out, hurt evident in his eyes. "Why didn't you just tell me, Sharon?"

Realisation dawned and Sharon felt herself relaxed slightly. She now understood the real source of her foster son's anger – he thought that she had kept something from him. "Rusty," she said softly, sinking onto the nearby arm chair. "There is nothing to tell."

"Didn't look that way to me – besides - Flynn works for you," Rusty screwed his face up in disapproval. "Isn't that like…unethical or something?"

"It just happened, Rusty and no…it's not unethical…it's…" Sharon searched her mind for the right words to describe her relationship with Andy; complicated, wrong, dangerous…exciting? She collapsed back into the chair and groaned, rubbing her forehead. "I don't know what it is."

"Wait a minute," Rusty sat forward on the couch, his eyebrows knotted together in concentration. "You said it just happened…do you mean that figuratively or like…?"

From the armchair Sharon observed the young man through her fingers - inwardly cringing at what she knew would be his next line of questioning.

"Did I…you know…did I interrupt your first kiss?"

"I…erm…" Sharon straightened in the chair; even though she knew that the question was coming, she was ill prepared with a response.

"I did! Didn't I?" A smile crept across Rusty's lips – his expression changing suddenly to one of amusement.

Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable under his gaze, Sharon got to her feet and rounded the arm chair, her hands searching for pockets that didn't exist in her dress; she wanted the ground to swallow her up.

"Oh my God, Sharon!" Rusty's chuckled to himself; reading his guardians awkward body language as an affirmative. "Did you just break a rule?"

xXx

Louis Provenza drove his vehicle through the tall iron gates of Ridgewater Psychiatric; an intimidating, sandstone structure perched atop a grassy bank – literally in the middle of nowhere.

The detective observed the imposing building distastefully as he parked his car at the foot of a wide set of concrete stairs.

"I hate mental hospitals." Provenza groused as he unfastened his seatbelt - wondering what fate awaited him on the other side of the large metal doors.

The fact he of all people was using his free time to help Darth-Raydor, was an irony not lost on the short-tempered Lieutenant. He had spent the majority of the two hour journey in rush hour traffic trying to figure out what had changed; he wasn't sure when or how it had happened, but Captain Raydor appeared to have blindsided him.

He liked her.

Well, Provenza surmised as he pressed the buzzer to gain access to the hospital, he liked Sharon; Captain Raydor was still a massive pain in his ass.

He didn't like her in the same way Lieutenant Flynn apparently did; following the captain around all day with a forlorn look in his eyes. No - to Provenza - whether he liked it or not, Sharon had stealthily crept her way around his crotchety defences and was now...an ally…a friend?

Maybe not quite a friend…but their mutual interest in the wellbeing of Rusty Beck had certainly brought them closer together…and the way that his best friend gazed at Sharon across the office lately – it was probably a good thing that she was no longer Provenza's sworn enemy.

Flynn had never been very good at keeping his feelings to himself and judging by the way he had skulked back into the office after being at Sharon's apartment that afternoon, Provenza figured that Raydor had thrown her rule book at his partners libido.

But Provenza wasn't blind; he knew that Sharon had a fondness for Flynn – much to his annoyance, he had witnessed first hand the lingering looks and casual flirting. Flynn could be a persistent son of a bitch when he knew what he wanted; Provenza was sure that his partners irritating ability to wear people down could break through even Raydor's stubborn defences.

"Can I help you?" A female voice crackled over the intercom, drawing him from his thoughts.

"Lieutenant Provenza, LAPD."

There was a loud buzz from inside the building, followed by the clunking of a lock being released; Provenza hauled open the heavy door and entered the foyer of the hospital.

He found himself in a small waiting room; the white wash walls were dotted with notices about security and a brown bench, that had seen better days, lined most of the space.

"Can I help you?" The same voice from the intercom - this time with less crackle - sounded from behind a pane of reinforced glass to the Lieutenant's right.

"I'm here to see Ian Banston," at the stern looking nurse's lack of response Provenza elaborated, "I rang ahead."

The nurse pushed her glasses up her nose and sniffed, before shoving a clipboard through a small gap at the bottom of her window. "Sign in."

He took the clipboard. "Can I have a pen to sign this with or do you want my signature in blood?"

The nurse scowled at the Lieutenant and tossed a pen through the narrow gap, before opening a metal box to the left of her 'cage'. "Show me your id, then place it and any firearms you are carrying into this box."

"Why, of course." Provenza smiled sarcastically at the nurse – whose nametag read J Biggins – as he simultaneously signed his name and thrust his ID badge against the window. Dutifully he placed the required items in the box, which the nurse then promptly slammed shut.

"So, Nurse Biggins," he passed the clipboard and pen back through the window. "Tell me, where did you go to charm school?"

xXx

Rusty watched as Sharon absently pushed a piece of broccoli around her plate. She'd hardly touched her dinner – and Chinese was usually her favourite…even if it was reheated take out from the night before.

"Is it not good?"

"Hmmm?" Sharon looked at him – his question dragging her from a dreamlike state.

"The food." He signalled with his fork. "Don't you like it?"

"No, it's fine…" She dropped her own fork on to the table and pushed her plate backwards. "I'm just not very hungry, that's all."

"There's a lot going on, huh?" Rusty asked casually, popping a piece of chicken into his mouth.

"Too much," Sharon concurred, resting back in her chair. "How are you holding up?"

The young man rolled his eyes, "oh I'm good – it's you that I'm concerned about."

"I'm fine, Rusty," Sharon said unconvincingly, getting to her feet and taking her plate to the sink.

"Well," he scoffed. "If we're both fine then I guess there's no need to talk about it." The boy snapped, finishing off his last bit of Kung po chicken and washing it down with a swig of soda.

"Rusty," Sharon addressed him with a stern glare from across the kitchen counter. "If the break-in is bothering you – then we need to talk about it."

"Why do you do that, Sharon?" Rusty asked exasperatedly, slamming his soda back onto a coaster.

"Why do I do what?"

"Brush things off like that – deflect things on to me?" He got to his feet and with his empty dish in hand, moved to stand across the counter from her. "You are not fine Sharon, nobody would be fine in your situation. If I'm required to spill my heart out to you, or - or to a shrink or whoever every time something slightly unsettling happens – why won't you just talk to me?"

"I am the adult here, Rusty," Sharon stiffened her posture and scrapped her uneaten Chinese into the garbage disposal.

"I'm 18 now Sharon."

"It is still my job to keep you safe and well and…" She softened her tone slightly, placing the dirty crockery in the bottom tray of the dishwasher "…not burden you with my problems."

"But don't you see, Sharon?" He rounded the corner and came to stand in front of her as she shut the dishwasher door. "You not telling me how you are feeling is affecting me."

Sharon's eyes glistened with unshed tears, "I don't mean it to affect you Rusty. I'm sorry that you have to be in the middle of all of this…"

"You're not getting it!" Rusty raised his voice, interrupting her ramblings. "We need to talk about what's happening – but not just about how it affects me. I care about you, Sharon - and when someone you care about is hurting…you hurt too."

A tear escaped and fell down Sharon's cheek and she wiped at it self-consciously before pulling Rusty into a hug.

"When did you become so smart, huh?" She teased, giving him a tight squeeze before releasing him.

"I just know you," he took a step back shrugging shyly. "You can't bottle things up forever, Sharon."

"Wise words, indeed." Sharon straightened dress and ran her fingers through her hair. "Okay young man…" she sniffed and moved to open the freezer compartment of the refrigerator. "…I think this calls for ice cream."

Rusty smiled as his foster mother moved into the sitting room with the mint choc chip ice cream and two spoons; it appeared that Sharon was finally ready to open up to him.

xXx

Ian Banston looked like of his father; he was tall, of slim build with a fair complexion and deep set green eyes. Those eyes now scrutinised Lieutenant Provenza from across the large table – before flitting up to glance at the Taser armed security guard that stood by the door to the interview room.

"Must be my birthday." The younger man said snippily.

"Why's that?"

"Cops already came to see me today – I've never had a visitor here other than my lawyer."

"Well, we like to be thorough."

"They wanted to know about Sharon Raydor..." he sneered, revealing a set of perfectly straight teeth. "I'll tell you what I told them; that bitch got what was coming to her."

Provenza stared stoically at the inmate, deftly quashing the anger that was rising in his stomach. "You'll get yours bitch."

"What?" Ian asked, a frown creasing his brow.

"That's what you used to write on your little notes that you sent Sharon Raydor, isn't it?"

"That's right," Ian cocked his jaw and relaxed cockily back in his chair. "I also said it to her when I smashed her face in with my fist – what's your point?"

In his mind's eye, Provenza saw the photographs of Sharon's injuries from her attack. He recalled her statement from the file – the fact that her kids had witnessed this animal beating on their mother in their own home…

He cleared his throat, "I want to know what you meant by that."

"That she'd get her comeuppance," he shrugged. "That bitch ruined my life, detective."

"Lieutenant," Provenza corrected him.

"Whatever," Banston continued. "She had an affair with my father and when my mother found out…"

"Yeah, yeah I know the story." Provenza mirrored the younger man's dismissive tone. "Sounds to me like your father ruined your life – not Sharon Raydor."

The young man's eyebrows retreated to his hairline. "Hey, my father was fine before their affair started. He was a good father, a good cop…"

"A good cop? Your father made money from trafficking young women into the US from Europe – to be sex workers. He was a disgrace to the badge."

"That was never proven," Banston protested.

"Only because your spineless dad killed himself before the trial."

"He killed himself because of what happened to my mother!" Banston yelled slamming his fists on the table, causing the guard to take a step towards them. "They were arguing about Sharon when my mom hit her head. It was an accident, but if Sharon hadn't come between them – none of this…" he gestured to himself. "…would have happened."

"It takes two to tango kid," Provenza waved the guard off and continued his interrogation. "Besides, I knew your father and I know Sharon Raydor. They were not having an affair – he made that up so that he could use her as an alibi,"

"That's not true," he leant forward in his chair, cuffed hands resting on the table. "I saw them once."

"You were just a kid, you don't know what you saw,"

"I was eight years old - not stupid! I know what I saw in Florida, and that bitch destroyed my family," Ian seethed. "If I'd had the chance to tell my story in court, we wouldn't be sitting here now."

"Right," Provenza rolled his eyes, not for a second believing the young man's story. "Someone having an affair with your father makes your beating on her in front of her kids justifiable. You plead insanity Ian, that's why you didn't get a trial."

Ian scrunched his fists into tight balls. "Well, that's all gonna change – my lawyer tells me that I can appeal."

"This lawyer of yours got a name?"

"John Fredrickson."

Provenza wrote the name in his notepad. "He came here to see you recently?"

"You know he did. Why else would you be here? You guys are just worried I'm gonna be released."

"Sorry to break it to you, Banston – but we've got you banged to rights," Provenza flipped his notepad shut and got to his feet. "I've never heard of this John Fredrickson guy – he sounds like a hack to me."

"Bullshit," Ian also got to his feet, towering above the lieutenant on the other side of the table. "Why else would you be here?"

"My Captain received a letter this week," he said with a casual shrug. "I felt the need to follow up on it."

"Who the fuck is the Captain and what does the guy receiving a letter have to do with me?"

"I'm talking about Captain Raydor, you idiot." Provenza frowned. "Wait, you didn't know she was a captain now?"

"What?" Banston's eyes were wide as he took in this new information, "they promoted that bitch?"

xXx

"Sharon?" Andy answered his cell phone, mere seconds after it started to ring on his coffee table; he had been waiting all night for her to call.

"Hi, Andy." Sharon said breathily - she sounded tired, he mused – wondering if she was calling him from bed. "I'm sorry it's so late, I just had a heart to heart with Rusty; turns out we had a lot to talk about."

"It's okay," Andy said, perching on the arm of his couch; he felt so relieved to hear the sound of her voice. "Is he okay with...you know?"

"He's…fine actually," to Andy's surprise, Sharon held a hint of amusement in her tone. "He was more upset that he thought I'd been keeping my relationship with you a secret."

"Oh yeah?"

"I know," a nervous chuckle escaped her lips. "Honestly, I don't know where he thinks I'd find the time."

"Yeah," a brief silence crept into their conversation before Andy got straight the point; he was sick of skirting around his feelings for Sharon. "But could you?"

"Could I what?"

Andy was unsure if Sharon genuinely didn't understand his question, or she just needed to hear him say it – either way, he played along. "Could you find the time?"

He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, it appeared Sharon hadn't expected him to cut to the chase so quickly. "Andy I," she inhaled deeply. "I must apologize for my behaviour earlier – I don't know what came over me…I…"

"I do." Andy cut in to her musings.

"You do?"

"I saw it in your eyes, Sharon. You can't deny it; you wanted me as much as I wanted you."

"That…" she faltered. "…may be the case – but it's complicated. I'm married and I'm your boss and…"

"Again with the excuses." Andy snapped bitterly as he got to his feet and paced his lounge. "How many more years are you going to be in the police force Sharon?"

"Andy,"

"Three, four, five years, max?"

"I don't think…"

"We're both nearing retirement; there's an expiration date on our careers, Sharon – are you really going to let that stand in the way of a happiness that could potentially last until the day you die?"

"I…what?"

"How many chances do you think we have left at this, Sharon?"

Sharon was silent now; she hadn't expect him to say that, he knew. She had probably assumed that he just saw her as some kind of conquest.

"I can't even begin to understand the complexities of your marital arrangement, Sharon…," Andy continued his tirade, "…but Jack's an ass. Do you really think that he has been faithful to you all these years? You deserve better." It wasn't the most profound thing that Andy had said, but it brought Sharon back into the conversation.

"I agree." She said simply, before elaborating. "I agree with everything you have said, Andy – but it's not that simple. I need some time…" she sighed audibly, her breath quivering with emotion. "Andy, this is huge."

"It's life changing," he concurred. "Look, Sharon…I'll wait for you. I'll back off and wait for you – but you have to promise me one thing?"

"What's that?" Sharon asked cautiously.

"That you will make this decision for yourself."

"I will,"

"I mean it, Sharon. Not for your career, not for Jack or your church – not for even for me."

"Okay," she answered firmly. "I will, Andy – I promise."

"Good," he answered with a smile, satisfied that he had finally made his point and hopeful that he stood a chance. "See you at the office tomorrow, Captain?"

"Yes, Lieutenant," she cleared her throat. "I'll see you tomorrow."

A minute after Sharon heard the phone click off at Andy's end, she still held the receiver to her ear; Andy had just dropped a bombshell.

'Can he really see us spending the rest of our lives together?'

She shifted against her pillows and dropped the phone to her chest.

'Can I?'

TBC


	12. Florida

You'll Get Yours – Chapter 12

Sharon's tormentor watched through their rear-view mirror as the Lieutenant known as Provenza left Ridgewater Psychiatric hospital. The aging detective had a frosty expression on his face; he'd been inside for almost an hour.

"Shit."

This was not supposed to happen.

An increase in police protection had been anticipated – but not from those in Sharon's inner circle…running into a member of the Major Crimes team would mean game-over.

Sharon Raydor was a private person – a virtual hermit; she was supposed to be keeping her predicament from her team. The woman was supposed to be suffering in silence – but instead had her detectives rallying around trying to help…

"And it's starting to get irritating."

xXx

Sharon's stomach fluttered nervously as she exited the elevator onto the Major Crimes floor; instinctively she brought her hand to her waistline and inhaled deeply in an attempt to compose herself.

She had barely slept a wink last night; her encounter with Andy and his surprising admission had seen to that. His words and actions had left her feeling confused and anxious…and a little aroused.

'Sharon…I'll wait for you.' She really hadn't seen that one coming; it was quite possibly the sweetest, most romantic thing a man had ever said to her…and it fell straight from the lips of Andy Flynn.

The very same lips that had pressed against her own, had blazed a trail down her neck to her collarbone…Sharon felt herself blushing at the memory.

Andy had made his intentions perfectly clear; he didn't see her as a conquest - he wasn't just after a fling…and as a consequence, Sharon had a huge decision to make.

'Damn him.'

In a week where the Banston case had resurfaced and her team had a fresh murder to solve – Sharon really didn't need another ball in her court.

Concentrating on the steady rhythm of her heals clicking on the linoleum - instead of the torrent of emotions that flooded her mind – Sharon rounded the corner into the Murder Room. Having arrived intentionally earlier than her colleagues, she strode with purpose through the empty offices towards the break-room; the draw of caffeine too much to resist in her sleep deprived state.

"Mike? You're here early," Sharon observed with a puzzled frown as she opened the door – trying to stifle her disappointment at finding she was not alone.

"Good morning Captain," Tao turned towards her, full coffee pot in hand. "I couldn't sleep."

"It appears it's going around," Sharon concurred glumly and walked towards him, dropping her purse onto a nearby table and removing her blue trench coat. "Something on your mind?"

Tao nodded. "It's the footage that Sykes and Sanchez collected of Franco DeSalve from the airport." He filled his cup and gestured towards the captain, "You want?"

"Yes please," Sharon said eagerly, taking a step toward the counter that separated them and tucking her hands to in her trouser pockets. "What is it about that footage that bothers you, lieutenant?"

"There is a section of the recording with DeSalve on the phone where he is facing the camera, but it's only a glimpse; most of the conversation he has his back to it." Tao placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of Sharon and she smiled warmly; he had added a splash of 1% milk – just how she liked it.

"That's right." She clasped the coffee cup with both hands - inhaling the rich aroma like her life depended on it, before taking a tentative sip of the hot liquid.

"Well, when I re-watched the footage this morning, I realised what was bothering me; DeSalve's reflection was actually captured in a nearby window…"

"Meaning that we may have a reflected image of DeSalves side of the conversation," Sharon finished Tao's statement for him and placed her cup back onto the counter. "Mike that is brilliant! Do you think that a lip reading specialist will be able to decipher it?"

"The reflection is pretty blurry as it was still fairly light outside, but I think that we can still do something with it," Tao strode around the counter with his coffee in hand. "Buzz is on his way in now – once he gets here, we can see what can be done to clear it up."

"Great work, Lieutenant," Sharon nodded as she gathered her purse and jacket from the table and swiped her own coffee from the counter. "Please let me know when you have any further developments – I'll be in my office until the rest of the team arrive."

"Will do, Captain."

Tao held the door open for Sharon and as she left the break room, she felt a little weight lifting from her shoulders. This was great news; a break in their current case was certainly needed. To the captain, it felt very much like they had been chasing their own behinds from the get-go.

After the recent attack on Amber Moore, it was looking likely that the actress was indeed the intended murder victim – which meant that her PA Jessica Ardell, was sadly just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Franco DeSalve was the missing piece in their puzzle; he was either on the run because he was guilty - or he was already dead. Either way, locating him was their top priority…but it would have to wait.

"Captain Raydor…"

As both Sharon and Lieutenant Tao headed towards the murder-room, Buzz intercepted them at the end of the hall - a distraught expression on his face.

"Buzz?" Sharon slowed to a stop, concern in her voice evident; was it another 'gift' from the Banston copycat? Were her children okay? Her team? "What is it?" She took a cautious step towards him. "What's the matter?"

"Captain…" The young man looked to his right and gestured with his arm – bringing Amber Moore around the corner and into to view. "I found her waiting outside."

"Oh my God," Sharon gasped at the sight; the young actresses face was covered in blood – her bottom lip was bust open, and a bruise was starting to form under her right eye. "Amber, who did this to you?"

"It was my agent…" The young woman shuffled forwards, clutching her oversized purse to her chest, "Franco…he attacked me."

xXx

"What the hell happened?" Provenza asked as he entered the murder room to find a medic treating Amber Moore in the captain's office. Through the open blinds he could see Sharon pacing the space behind her desk as the medic crouched in front of the seated actress - swabbing at her face with a cotton ball.

"Amber Moore was attacked this morning, sir." Sykes explained as she strode past Provenza towards the murder board.

"Again?" The lieutenant asked incredulously.

Andy swung around in his chair to face him. "Yeah, DeSalve really did a number on her this time – how come you're so late?"

"Accident on the 405 - so I took a detour and brought breakfast," he held out a brown bag containing muffins of varying flavours. "She said DeSalve did it? She actually saw him this time?"

Sanchez got to his feet and swiped the bag from the Lieutenant's grasp; amusement twitching on his lips. "Sir, you shouldn't have."

"I didn't." Provenza grumped as he moved to stand by his desk, waving an arm at his team. "You all owe me three dollars and fifty cents."

"Miss Moore said that DeSalve stopped her on the way into the studio this morning," Sykes explained as she updated the murder-board. "She said that he had asked for her help; that he was behaving erratically and when she tried to leave he got angry and punched her repetitively in the face."

Amy clipped a photograph of Amber Moore's bruised and bloody face to the board and Provenza winced. "What made him stop?"

"She doesn't know," Sanchez talked around a piece of blueberry muffin.

"Any witnesses?" Provenza asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Sir, are you suggesting that the girl did this to herself?" Sykes questioned her superior's suspicions, gesturing towards the photograph on the board.

"I'm not saying that," Provenza hoicked his trousers to loosen the material at his knees and took a seat at his desk. "But something's off – I don't think she's been entirely truthful with us about this DeSalve character."

"You think she's hiding something?" Andy asked, glancing over his shoulder into Sharon's office, before bringing his attentions back to his partner.

"What do your instincts tell you Flynn?"

xXx

Captain Raydor watched as a medic treated the wounds on the actresses face; her injuries reminiscent of a photograph of Sharon that sat inside the Banston file. The older woman looked on sympathetically as Amber Moore flinched – her eyes watering when the medic applied pressure to her cheekbones and nose.

Sharon shook her self internally when she felt her own eyes welling up; now was not the time to become emotionally attached.

"All done," the medic said cheerfully. "Nothing's broken, but it'll hurt like a bitch for a while." The young man got to his feet, popping various medical tools back in his case and handing the actress a couple of pills. "Ibuprofen for the pain and swelling – after a couple of hours if you're still in pain, take a couple of Tylenol."

"Thanks," Amber Moore nodded meekly and reached for the drink of water that sat beside her on Sharon's desk. She winced as the glass connected with a cut at the side of her mouth and she returned her eyes to the medic. "Will I be scarred?"

"Absolutely not," the medic shook his head with conviction. "You'll be back in working order soon enough…speaking of which," he reached into a pocket and pulled out a pen and notepad. "I hate to ask but - can I please have your autograph?"

"Oh, um…sure…" Amber took the proffered items from the excitable medic.

"Make it out to Stefan - that's me," he gushed excitedly, "…and Joe - that's my partner; we just love you in Days."

"Thank you very much, Stefan."

"You are so welcome! Tell me, is it true that your character…"

Sharon rolled her eyes at the exchange and tuning them both out – twisted to look through the open blinds and into the office.

Her whole team had now arrived and were hovering around the murder board; Andy was perched on the corner of Sykes desk, tucking into what looked like a chocolate muffin.

Sharon felt her mouth go dry as she watched him devour the baked treat; her stomach growled in response – although she wasn't entirely sure if her hunger was directed at the food or her lieutenant.

Realising that she was staring with her mouth agape, Sharon tore her gaze from Andy's lips – only to meet his dark brown eyes. She felt herself flush from head to toe - he was looking directly at her.

"Captain Raydor?" A voice from inside her office called for attention and Sharon snapped out of her reverie and back into the room.

"Hmmm?" She tugged at her black suit jacket – straightening it out in an attempt to compose herself. It appeared the medic had already left…'how long was I staring?'

"Are you alright?" Amber Moore sat, staring up at the captain - a frown forming on her bruised face.

"I'm fine," Sharon said, a little defensively before softening her reaction with a tight smile. "How are you holding up?"

The blonde shrugged, "I'm okay, I guess." She plucked absently at a loose piece of cotton on the hem of her floral skirt. "I'm just confused I mean…why would Franco want to hurt me like this?"

"Well," Sharon came to rest against her desk next to the younger woman. "Franco asked for your help, Amber…he sounded like he was pretty desperate."

"No, I mean like this," she gestured towards her bruising. "This face pays both of our bills – I'm his biggest client – well," she scoffed. "Not anymore."

"Oh," Sharon found herself lost for words.

"You know what? I'm gonna take a selfie and tweet it," Amber said decisively reaching for her purse and rummaging around for her phone. "No such thing as bad publicity right?"

Sharon's hands found her trouser pockets and she simply smiled wanly in response; her empathy for the young woman fading – just like that.

xXx

"What's the actress doing?" Sanchez asked with a frown as Sharon entered the murder room. Behind her, Amber Moore had moved towards the outer window of the captain's office and was elaborately posing into her cell phone.

"She's trying to find her light," Sharon answered flatly. "What do you have for me?"

"Well, not a whole lot – this case makes no sense." Provenza collapsed back in his chair, "If Amber Moore was the intended victim and not her PA, then DeSalve's not our man – he let the actress go."

"And he asked for her help," Andy entered the conversation, crossing the office to stand by Provenza. "Which means if he is our killer, then we're back to Jessica Ardell being the intended victim…"

"Square one, you mean." Provenza groused.

"Not quite, sir." Sykes entered the office and snatched a fax from the copier – dutifully dropping some coins into the jar on Provenza's desk. "Call just came through from South Bureau. We've got a plate match on DeSalves Porsche – it's parked up in a neighbourhood in the Harbor City area."

"Alright," Sharon took charge. "Detective Sykes, Detective Sanchez, follow up on this lead. We're assuming that the car has been dumped there – but please execute with caution."

"Yes Captain," The younger detectives moved into action and left the office

"Don't take the 405!" Provenza belatedly called after them, but by then they were already out of earshot. "There's a pile up…" He explained at Sharon's frown, "muffin?"

"Um," Sharon looked at the bag of baked goods and glanced uncomfortably at Andy; her bizarre reaction provoking a frown from both of her lieutenants. Thankfully however, Tao emerging from the comms room cut straight through the awkwardness.

"Captain, we think we've cleared up the footage from the airport enough to be lip-readable, we are just making some finishing touches…Oooh muffins."

"Three dollars and fifty cents." Provenza raised his eyebrows as Mike pulled a chocolate chip muffin from the bag.

"Great work, Mike; Lieutenant Flynn," Sharon - doing her best to appear collected - turned to Andy to address him for the first time since their late night conversation. "Please can you arrange for the lip-reading specialist to come in and decipher the footage?"

"Sure thing, Captain." Andy answered nonchalantly with a shrug – for which Sharon was thankful. She had been concerned that there would be weirdness between them at work, but as Andy moved over to the desk to make a call – he didn't even spare her a second glance.

In fact, his body language indicated that he was dealing with their situation better than she was.

"Lieutenant Provenza," Sharon brought her attentions back to her second in command and watched as Mike dropped his payment for the muffin on the desk and retreated back to the comms room. "We will need to arrange some protective detail for Amber Moore."

"Will do," Provenza glanced over his shoulder to ensure that the coast was clear. "Erm, Captain you got a minute?"

"Has there been a development in the other case, Lieutenant?" Sharon asked hopefully.

"Of sorts." Provenza got to his feet. "As you know, I visited Ian Banston last night."

Sharon cautiously surveyed the office area; Amber Moore was currently occupying her office – but apart from Andy who was currently on the phone - they were alone in the murder room. "What did you find out?" She spoke in a hushed tone.

"Does the name John Fredrickson mean anything to you?"

"John Fredrickson?" The captain frowned, and crossed her arms at her chest. "No. No it doesn't. Should it?"

"He's Ian's lawyer; the only visitor the man's had in the past few years. Fredrickson told Ian that there was a chance he could appeal."

"An appeal?" Sharon's eyebrows retreated to her hairline.

"Yeah, - but the thing is – I can't find a lawyer named Fredrickson on a register anywhere locally."

"Really? That's odd."

"I'm having the hospital send over video footage from the days that the lawyer visited – see if we can get a visual on this guy."

"Okay…did Ian Banston give you any indication of his involvement in this new spate of harassment?"

"No," Provenza shook his head. "I don't think Banston knows much – he didn't even know that you'd made Captain."

"I bet that bit of information just made his day…"

"He's a piece of work, alright." Provenza rounded his desk to stand next to the Captain.

"He's a very angry young man," Sharon responded sadly.

"He's clearly delusional," Provenza continued his rant. "He thinks his father was a damned saint – even though – get this – Ian's justification for the attack was that he 'saw you both together in Florida.' I can just see the appeal board lapping that one up…."

"Wait, I'm sorry Lieutenant…what did he say?"

"About what?"

"Florida." Sharon paled slightly. "What did Ian say about Florida?"

"Just that he saw you together once," Provenza shrugged.

"That's it?" Sharon's voice was small, her brow creased with worry.

"Yeah."

"He's never said that before…."

"Look, Captain the guy's delusional…"

"Is he Sharon?" Both Provenza and Sharon turned to see Andy standing behind them – a stony expression on his face. "Did Ian Banston see you and his father together in Florida?"

"Andy I…" Apparently, Sharon's guilt ridden expression was the only answer that the Lieutenant needed.

"Excuse me," he spat out as he briskly walked past them towards the break room.

"Andy," Sharon called after him – temporarily forgetting where she was. "It wasn't like that I…" She cursed under her breath and hung her head as Andy rounded the corner – moving out of site.

Sharon felt sick.

'Ian Banston saw us in Florida.'

But Ian had it all wrong – and now evidently so did Andy.

'How could something so meaningless be the catalyst for so much pain?'

After several long seconds, Provenza shifted on his feet – dragging her from her memories. "So…"

Sharon lifted her head gingerly to look at him, expecting a tirade of disapproval from her Lieutenant; but all she saw was compassion.

"Are you going to go after him?"

TBC


	13. The Reveal

Chapter 13

Andy paced the floor in the break room.

'Sharon had an affair?' He clenched and unclenched his fists. 'All that crap about 'being married' and she had an affair with Jimmy –fucking – Banston?'

He moved to the counter and clutched the edge. As he inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm himself, he heard the tell-tail clicking of heals approaching at a determined pace.

'And now she's pissed?' 

As the door swung open, Andy moved swiftly to the coffee maker and grabbed a mug – pouring decaf into the receptacle calmly – trying to create the illusion of nonchalance. He kept his back to the door even when it was forcibly slammed shut.

"Do you mind telling me just what the hell that was?" Sharon's clipped and clearly enraged tone called for his attention.

"You tell me." Andy took a sip of the warm liquid and turned to face her; her frosty expression just daring him to explain.

"Well," She placed her hands on her hips. "It appears to me, that you heard half of a tale and instead of keeping your feelings to yourself until you and I were in a more appropriate place to discuss them - you acted like a jack-ass."

"I acted like a jack–ass?" He spluttered.

"Andy, I don't think you quite grasp the gravity of our situation."

"What the hell does that mean?" He scowled and placed his coffee on the counter.

"All your little outburst has done is to prove to me that a having a relationship and working together, is completely out of the question."

"That's ridiculous." Andy rounded the counter towards her.

"Is it?" Sharon raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms at her chest. "Andy, what just happened out there in front of our colleague…"

"Provenza?" Andy scoffed. "He doesn't count."

"Your actions were embarrassing and completely without grounds."

"Oh I've got grounds to be pissed, alright."

"Jimmy has been dead for over a decade..."

"That's not what this is about."

"Oh?"

"I'm not jealous of Jimmy; what you did in your past, Sharon - it's none of my business."

"Alright, then…" she faltered - his response was not what she had anticipated.

"You've been holding your marriage to Jackson in front of you like a God damned shield!"

Sharon opened her mouth to respond, yet thought better and closed it again – allowing Andy to continue his tirade.

"And now I find out that you, what? Had an affair with another man?"

"It was not an affair." This time, Sharon was quick to respond - her already folded arms tightened defensively over her chest.

"Then what was it?"

"It was nothing…" Sharon twisted away from Andy's scrutiny and took a step towards the door.

"Bull shit, Sharon." Andy followed her, not backing down. "I saw your face when Provenza told you what Ian Banston had said. What did that kid really see in Florida?"

"Ian was just a child, Andy," Sharon said dismissively as she turned to face him again. "He doesn't know what he saw."

"Sharon, be honest with me here." Andy pressed her for an answer, his expression sincere. "Please, you owe me that much."

Sharon's eyes searched his for a beat, as if she were looking for the right answer; the magic word that would make him drop the subject altogether. Eventually however, she conceded with the truth.

"It was…" she sighed and dropped her gaze to the floor. "It was just a kiss…"

"A kiss?"

"Yes," Sharon brought her gaze back to his. "It was just an incredibly reckless thing to do in a moment of weakness that lasted for about half a minute before I came to my senses." Her brow furrowed as she recalled the night it happened. "Jackson and I had just had a huge fight…I was feeling vulnerable and confused about the state of my marriage and Jimmy…he misread my need for comfort as something else..."

"He kissed you first?"

"He instigated it yes, but…"

"Sounds to me like he took advantage."

"Whatever it was, why ever it happened," Sharon shrugged. "I broke my marriage vows. Not Jackson – me."

"Banston made a pass at you, Sharon."

"That's right - and for a second… I didn't fight it."

"Big deal!"

"Andy,"

"So you're not perfect." Andy shrugged. "You're only human, Sharon – one brief kiss does not an adulteress make."

"Oh, yes it does." Sharon protested, stepping backwards – regaining the space between them. "Andy, Ian Banston saw his father kissing me; everything that has happened since…it all leads back to that very moment."

He frowned. "You make it sound like you're being punished."

Sharon hesitated and looked at Andy contemplatively; her eyes were glazed with unshed tears. When she eventually spoke, her voice was devoid of its earlier harshness. "Maybe I am."

A knocking startled them both and Sharon took yet another step backwards just as Provenza reluctantly poked his head around the door.

"Sorry to interrupt, Captain." The lieutenant scowled at Andy. "Flynn, your lip reading specialist is on her way up to watch the footage of DeSalve at the airport."

"Be right out." Andy barely acknowledged his friend – his gaze was focussed solely on Sharon.

"Oh and Captain?" Provenza continued. "Our actress has requested to leave – you want me take her home and arrange for uniform surveillance?"

Sharon spared a glance at Andy. "No," she shook her head. "I'll go – I would rather you were here when the footage of Ian Banston's lawyer arrives. I'll take Lieutenant Tao with me; please let him know that we are leaving."

"Yes, Captain." Provenza left the room, but as the Captain moved to follow him - Flynn reached out to lightly clasp her arm.

"Sharon,"

"Lieutenant Flynn, I believe that you have a visitor," Sharon locked eyes with her lieutenant. "Please show her to the comms room and call me if you get any leads."

Andy held her gaze for a few more beats, before releasing her arm. "Alright," he said conceding defeat as Sharon left the break room. "Whatever you say, Captain."

xXx

"What do you mean - you need me now?"Lip reading specialist Karen Parisi sat in front of a monitor in the comms room, relaying what was being spoken by Franco Desalve on the screen. Buzz, who sat next to her, was acting as scribe. "I've helped you enough already – you and your crazy fucking family."

Andy hovered in the back, half listening, half caught up in his argument with Sharon.

She was shutting him out – pushing him away; her leaving to take the actress back to her house was a sure sign that she was putting distance between them. She was redefining the boundaries of their relationship.

Sharon blamed herself for what happened to the Banston family – that much was clear.

Is that one of the reasons she's still married to Jackson? Is remaining in a loveless marriage some kind of screwed-up self-imposed penance?

"Lieutenant Flynn?" His name being called drew Andy from his reverie. He quickly realised that Karen had stopped translating and both she and Buzz were staring at him expectantly.

Andy cleared his throat and straightened his posture. "You done already?"

"Um Yeah," Buzz answered, drawing out his words sarcastically with an impatient expression on his face. "The footage gave us no name of who DeSalve was talking to - just a reference to someone's crazy family," he held out the notes to Andy.

"Crazy family?" Andy frowned as he took the proffered item and scan read Buzz's scrawl. "Who the hell is he referring to?"

Before the rooms occupants could speculate, the door swung open revealing Provenza with a stony expression on his face.

"What's up?" Andy asked the obvious question.

"Are we done here?"

"Yeah just finished up, why?"

"Karen thank you so much for your help…" Provenza addressed their guest. "…But could you excuse us please – there's something pressing I need to discuss with my colleagues."

"Um, of course." Karen got to her feet and gathered her things – nodding towards the transcript in Andy's hands. "I hope it helps you with your case, Lieutenant."

Andy nodded his thanks - but the team remained silent until they were alone.

"So what's up?" Andy asked again – breaking the silence

"Sanchez just called - they found a body in the trunk of DeSalves Porsche."

"A body? They think it's DeSalve?"

"Sure as hell looks that way. There's a team on the way now – you good to go supervise? I've got to deal with the other thing…"

Andy frowned, "other thing?"

Provenza raised his eyebrows. "Concerning the Captain…"

"Oh," Andy answered as he grumpily. "Right." 'Yet another thing that Sharon is shutting me out of.'

"I'll update the Captain," Provenza ignored Flynns childish strop. "…and have Sanchez text you the coordinates."

"Don't worry," Andy strode around his friend and exited the comms room in a huff, handing him the footage notes from Buzz as he passed. "I'll call Sanchez."

Provenza rolled his eyes and looked down at the notes he'd been handed. "Crazy family?" He huffed, "There's a whole lot of crazy going round today."

"Do you want me to go to the crime scene as well, Lieutenant Provenza?" Buzz got to his feet and reached for his camera.

"Oh no - I need you to stay right where you are and do your thing." Provenza handed Buzz a video tape.

"My thing?"

"Yeah, you know - download this footage for me?" He turned to leave, "Let me know when it's done."

With that, Provenza left the office and shut the door behind him, leaving the younger man frowning at the bulky looking video cassette. "Download?"

xXx

After a short drive, Amber Moore, Lieutenant Tao and Captain Raydor arrived at the actress's house.

Having decided that it was best they took Amber to a hotel for her protection, the actress had asked Tao for assistance in packing some items to take with her – leaving Sharon to wait downstairs.

Having endured a car journey listening to Mike and Amber discussing the plight of the actresses character on her soap opera – Sharon was more than ready for some alone time; she was already regretting her decision to leave the office.

She always stayed at the office. Unless there was a body, Sharon led her team from a central location - she didn't escort victims to their houses.

'It seems that Andy isn't the only one who is exhibiting 'obvious' behaviour'.

Sharon sighed as she perused the actress's sitting room, admiring the expensive fabrics and original art pieces that adorned the walls and furniture.

It did feel good to be out of the office, though; away from the scrutiny of her team and ever watchful eyes of Lieutenant Flynn. With everything that had happened over the past few days, fiercely private Sharon was feeling very exposed – until she was in a room with Andy – then she felt instantly smothered.

Their actions at her apartment last night had clouded her judgement; Sharon's desire to touch and be touched had blinded her to the fact that Andy Flynn was and always would be a hot-head.

His jealous reaction this morning had confirmed Sharon's concern that there was a zero chance of keeping what had already happened between them a secret. Regardless of whether she decided to pursue a relationship with Andy or not - she would need to speak to Assistant Chief Taylor.

Sharon winced inwardly, just imaging the smug look on Taylor's face.

She wasn't sure she was ready to face that.

Leaving the sitting room, she wondered silently over to the double patio doors and stared out across the gardens – thoughts of her argument with Andy filling her mind.

'You make it sound like you're being punished!' 

As ridiculous as Flynn made it sound, there was some truth to his off-the-cuff comment.

This was a guilt that she had carried with her the longest time; if Sharon and Jimmy hadn't kissed – would he have decided to use her as an alibi in the first place?

That quandary caused a barrage of questions to flood Sharon's mind – an alternate reality formulating within her psyche of how different life may have been for the Banston family…

If Jimmy hadn't used Sharon an alibi – hadn't told his wife that they were having an affair - there would have been no fight between them. Marion would still be alive and her children – Ian and Chloe - would have grown up in a loving home.

If Sharon had recoiled at the first touch of Jimmy's lips against hers, there would have been nothing for Ian Banston to see. Nothing for him to relate to the demise of his family…

Maybe Andy was right – maybe everything that had happened since was her punishment.

'Andy…'

Despite his outburst today, regardless of her fear for Taylor's reaction to their relationship – Sharon's heart ached at the prospect of ending things. But how could she allow herself to be happy when her previous actions had caused so much pain?

A buzzing in her pocket dragged her from her thoughts and with a quick look at the caller display, she answered her phone promptly. "Lieutenant Provenza, what do you have for me?"

"Captain, we've found Franco Desalve."

"Oh?" Captain Raydor threw a glance over her shoulder to make sure that Amber Moore was out of earshot as she hurriedly pulled open the door and walked out onto the decking to take the call.

"Well, we think we've found him."

"What do you mean you think you've found him, Lieutenant? Where is he?"

"In the trunk of his Porsche."

"Oh," Sharon nodded in understanding. "Okay…So how long has he been dead?"

"Flynn's on his way up there with a team now – we should know very soon – but from Sanchez's description of the smell – a couple of days."

"A couple of days?" The Captain pulled the door shut behind her. "That's certainly interesting."

"Isn't it?" Provenza concurred. "Unless we've got ourselves a case of the walking dead – Amber Moore is lying about her attack. Where is she now?"

"Up stairs with Lieutenant Tao grabbing some things to take to a hotel – where she will be under 24 hour surveillance." Sharon emphasised that last point.

"So the victim is our new suspect."

"Let's be sure, Lieutenant. Did our lip reading specialist pick anything up from the airport footage?"

"Nothing useful. A passing reference to someone's crazy family..."

"Crazy family? What do we know about Miss Moore's relatives? "

"Well, there's not a lot to tell…" Sharon heard the rustling of paper over the line as Provenza looked back over their initial interview notes for Amber. "Mother and father are both dead and have been for years…no siblings…"

"Alright," Sharon sighed. "Lieutenant, please call me as soon as you confirm time of death."

"Aye Aye Captain."

Sharon placed her iPhone back in her blazer pocket and turned back towards the house; her heart leapt into her throat when staring right back at her through the glass, was Amber Moore.

The younger woman slid the door to one side, a slight frown creasing her brow. "What are you doing out here, Captain?"

"Amber you scared me," Sharon splayed her hand over her own chest. "I was…checking the perimeter," she fabricated; a forced smile spaying across her lips. "It's all clear."

"Okay," Amber shrugged casually, seemingly satisfied with Sharon's answer, and headed back into the house.

Sharon released the breath she had been holding - before following her back inside.

xXx

Provenza hung up the phone on his desk and rested back in his chair – checking his watch; the sooner they have time of death the better.

Mike had stated, in his usual long winded fashion, that it was possible for Amber Moore to have murdered her assistant before going to the party. But involving DeSalve and orchestrating his guilt would have taken detailed premeditation and an intelligence that the ditzy young actress was yet to portray.

Maybe she had a better handle on her craft than anyone had given her credit for…

"Lieutenant Provenza?" Buzz called from the open door to the comms room.

"Yeah?" Provenza spun around in his chair to face the younger man. "You done already?"

"I can work a VCR," Buzz sniped as he made way from the Lieutenant to pass through the door and into the room. "Who was the man DeSalve there to see?"

"What?" Provenza frowned as he took a seat at the desk.

"On the airport footage DeSalve mentioned someone's crazy family, but I didn't think he was being literal…"

"Buzz," Provenza snapped. "What are you talking about?"

"This," Buzz hit the play button and the screen blinked into action. "DeSalve at the mental institution – who was he there to see?"

"That can't be right…" Provenza's eyes widened as he saw Franco DeSalve on screen. "This footage it's…" Provenza looked to Buzz, "this is what I gave you just now?"

"Yeah," Buzz said incredulously. "Why, what's wrong with it?"

Provenza paled as he saw Amber Moore's agent signing into the front desk of Ridgewater Psychiatric. "DeSalve is Banston's Lawyer…Sharon!" Provenza leapt into action, reaching for his phone to call the Captain. "Get Flynn on the line – tell him to get over to Amber Moore's house - now!"

"Why? What's happening?" Buzz picked up the phone receiver.

"Sharon's the link, Buzz." Provenza's explanation did nothing to appease the young man's confusion. "The cases are related."

As Buzz proceeded to call Flynn, panic gripped Lieutenant Provenza…

"You've reached the voice mail of Captain Sharon Raydor of the LAPD…"

TBC


	14. The Why and How

Chapter 14

"So…are we all ready to go?" Sharon asked hopefully, trailing Amber back into the house and eying the pile of expensive luggage that was cluttering the hall way.

The Captain was anxious to leave; although Amber had given no indication that she had overheard her conversation with Lieutenant Provenza – she wasn't taking any chances. In order to regain the upper hand – they needed the actress away from her home and on less familiar ground.

"Almost," Amber came to a stop and contemplated her luggage. "There's just a few more things I need to collect before we leave."

Sharon's hands retreated to her trouser pockets. "Can I be of any help at all?"

"What's the rush?" A slight frown creased Amber's brow before she tossed her blonde locks over her shoulder and slinked into the kitchen.

"Well, Miss Moore," Sharon followed closely behind. "We still have your case to solve. There is not a whole lot that we can do from here…."

"I won't be long, Captain – I promise." The actress smiled; had she not got a bloodied lip, her smile may have been considered sweet. However to Sharon - in light of new evidence - the lopsided smirk that touched Amber's features expressed something more sinister. "Would you like a drink while you wait?"

"Um…." Sharon glanced cautiously up the stairs, "Where is Lieutenant Tao?"

"Oh, he just went to the bathroom," Amber rounded the island in the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a glass pitcher. "Lemonade?"

The Captain came to stand at the opposite side of the island, a forced smile on her lips. "Sure, why not."

As Amber placed the lemonade on the counter and reached into a cupboard for the glasses – Sharon reflected on her conversation with Lieutenant Provenza.

Amber had told the team that she had no remaining relatives - yet in the airport footage, DeSalve had made reference someone's crazy family. If Amber was indeed responsible for DeSalve's death and had lured him away from LAX…'what is she hiding by refuting her family's existence?'

"You have a lovely home, Miss Moore."

"Thank you; it's a far cry from my first apartment."

"Well, everyone has to start somewhere," Sharon nodded. "Did you…grow up locally?"

"Yes I did,"

Amber faltered slightly as she placed the glasses on the counter - sensing her discomfort at the line of questioning, Sharon pressed on.

"In LA?"

"Originally…but I moved around a lot."

"Oh, were you an army brat?"

"No." Amber narrowed her eyes. "Your detectives know this stuff already, Captain; my parents died when I was young."

"Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that…" Sharon placed her hand tentatively on the counter between them. "Forgive me Amber; I haven't yet had the chance to read your file…was it an accident or…?"

"Why do you ask?" Amber cocked her head to the side as she reached for the handle on the lemonade pitcher.

"Well," Sharon adjusted her glasses and took a step backwards, folding her arms over her chest. "You never know, it may be pertinent to your case..."

"Pertinent to my case?" The younger woman asked incredulously and tightened her grip on the pitcher; her tone suddenly scathing. "I seriously fucking doubt that."

"I…I'm sorry?" Sharon was taken aback at the sudden change in mood.

"Yes, it was an accident." Amber spat out; releasing her hold on the lemonade and gripping the counter. "Well, at least my dad said it was," she scoffed. "Though it turns out he was fucking some slut at work – so there was definitely motive."

The young woman took a deep breath to compose herself – then as quickly as it had disappeared, the sweet little actress act was back. "Now, would you like some sweetener in your lemonade, Captain Raydor?"

Sharon stared for a beat, a little dumfounded; the change in Amber's demeanour had been so hastily delivered, that she'd had little time to react. The Captain gathered herself swiftly however, her own professional mask falling into place. "Yes…yes please, sweetener would be great," she responded with a polite smile.

As Amber turned her back, Sharon quickly reached into her pocket for her cell phone and began searching for Tao's number. Sure she had just witnessed some severe cracks in the actresses façade, the Captain was growing anxious about her Lieutenants whereabouts.

"We lived with my grandmother for a while after my parents passed…" Oddly - considering her outburst - Amber decided to continue her life story as she rummaged around in the pantry – her tone almost jovial. "Until, you know…the ratty old bitch drank herself to death…now where did I put that damned Sweet 'N Low...?"

Sharon stopped scrolling through her phone as she processed Amber's statement; Provenza had specifically said that Amber had no siblings. "You said we?" She asked, poised to call Lieutenant Tao. "Do you have brothers and sisters?"

Amber had stopped rummaging.

"Miss Moore?" The Captain shifted her gaze between her cell phone screen and the pantry door. "Amber?"

"Ah-ha!" Amber exclaimed, reappearing with a small pink packet in her hand. "I knew I had some."

Startled, Sharon quickly dropped her hand to her side, shielding her phone from view as she pressed the screen to place the call.

"Sorry, did you ask me something?" Amber questioned calmly, just as Tao's phone sounded; the shrill ring sounding out – from right there in the kitchen with them.

Sharon felt her stomach tighten and her heart rate escalate as she watched Amber nonchalantly add the sweetener into a glass and top it up with liquid.

'What has she done to Lieutenant Tao? Is he still alive? He must be – why else would she take his phone?' Question's swirled around the Captain's mind as she cleared her throat and kept any hint of emotion from her voice. "Don't you need to get that call?"

"No, they can wait." Amber shrugged. "So your question?"

Sharon struggled to swallow, her throat suddenly dry as she terminated the call so as to avoid Tao's voicemail being heard from her handset. "I asked if you had any siblings."

"I have a brother. He's a little older than me."

"Did you…move in with other relatives after your grandmother passed?"

"Oh no…No Ian and I were placed in foster care."

As Amber pushed a glass of lemonade towards her – the tightness in the Captain's stomach turned to queasiness. 'Ian?'

"In LA?" She asked warily – connecting dots in her mind as she spoke.

"Nevada." Amber answered quickly and flatly; her azure gaze fixed upon the Captain.

'It's not possible…Chloe Banston is dead…'

Suddenly it was all too obvious. In her mind's eye, Sharon pictured Chloe as a child; the sweet young girl with the mop of blonde curls and big blue eyes. The same eyes now stared back at Sharon – all childhood innocence lost.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Amber asked, mock concern coating her words.

"I'm fine." Sharon spoke firmly; breaking eye contact temporarily - she inhaled sharply and straightened her posture. "Is Lieutenant Tao not joining us?" She asked coolly, pointing to the two glasses on the counter.

"He's said he's not thirsty."

"Still," Sharon smiled flatly. "I should go check on him – he's been a little while, don't you think?"

The Captain however had no intention of leaving. Angling her body away from the actress, she slowly lowered her hand to her holster and flicked open the clip - just as her own cell phone began to ring.

"Don't you dare fucking get that!"

The temporary distraction had sprung the younger woman into action; the Captain now found herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

xXx

Andy clenched the steering wheel a little harder than was necessary as he drove the back roads towards the DeSalve crime scene - skilfully avoiding a jam on the 405.

His frustrations were directed at no one in particular; the reasons to be pissed were so plentiful - at that moment in time he had no idea where to lay blame.

'This is all such a God damned mess.'

For the longest time Andy had thought that it was Jackson Raydor who had some kind of hold over Sharon; keeping her in a loveless marriage while he lived it up in Nevada...but it turned out it was her all along.

Problem husbands, Andy could deal with – but catholic guilt...

'It's not like I can just change the damn the past.'

As the Lieutenant rounded a corner, his musings came to an abrupt end when he found himself at the back of a long queue of traffic.

"What the..?" Andy slapped his hands on the wheel, and looked behind him - debating whether it would be quicker to start the siren or turn the car around.

The LA road system was a parking lot today; siren or no siren - Andy now resigned himself to the fact that getting to the crime scene was going to be a colossal pain in his ass.

"Son of a bitch."

'Today just gets better and better.'

The sound of his phone ringing through the car kit interrupted his internal rant; Andy looked at the caller display on the dash and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah?" He answered gruffly, craning his neck to see what the hold-up was.

"Lieutenant Flynn, it's Buzz."

"What's up?" Andy looked behind him as a car pulled up close to his bumper, hemming him in. "Talk fast."

"Lieutenant Provenza asked me to call. He um… he said the cases are related."

"What?" Having made the decision to try an alternative route, Andy opened the car door and flashed his badge at the vehicle behind him, gesturing for them to back off. As he sat back at the wheel and slid the car in to reverse, he heard an exchange between Provenza and Buzz – before the former picked up the call.

"Give me that...Flynn it's me."

"You don't say." Andy looked over his shoulder as he backed up the car to allow enough room to swing it around.

"The Captain's break in, the mail she's been getting – they're related to the actress case."

"What?" Andy abruptly slammed his foot on the break and stared at the dashboard.

"I just got the footage from Ridgewater Psychiatric –" Provenza explained, his breathlessness indicating that he was on the move. "DeSalve is Banston's lawyer."

"What the hell?"

"I'm on my way to the actress's house now –"

"Wait, does Sharon know there's a link?"

"The Captain and Tao are still with the actress - and Flynn…" the concern in his friend's voice shook Andy to his core. "…they're not answering their phones."

'Sharon…'

"Keep trying!" Andy put his foot on the gas and swung the car around. "I'm on my way."

As he flicked the switch to activate the siren and accelerated towards his destination - his heart was pounding in his chest.

'Please God. Please keep her safe.' 

xXx

Sharon stood still, one hand on her holster – the other on her ringing cell phone – holding it outwards and in plain view.

'She has a gun,' the Captain internally chastised herself. 'I should have assumed she had a gun.' 

Both women stared across the kitchen island; silently contemplating one another until the ringing stopped.

It was Sharon who broke the silence, "Chloe Banston, I presume."

"Took you long enough." Chloe - gun still raised, tilted her chin towards the Captain. "Show me your hands. Slowly." She edged over and removed the gun from Raydor's holster and the phone from her hand – placing them both on the counter out of reach.

"Where is Lieutenant Tao?"

"He's upstairs." Chloe took a step back, the gun still aimed at Sharon. "Turn around."

"If you've hurt him…"

"Shut up!" Chloe yelled and before Sharon could react, the young woman dropped a hand to her side and swung it back across Sharon's left cheek. "I said turn the fuck around!"

Stunned, Sharon brought a hand to her face to soothe the sting; she could taste blood.

"Okay," she held her hands up in front of her, her tongue tracing the inside of her lip for the source of the bleeding. "Alright."

As the Captain reluctantly turned around, she felt the barrel of the gun pushed between her shoulder blades; dutifully she allowed Chloe to push her towards the bottom of the stairs.

"Keep your hands where I can see them – we're going upstairs."

Sharon took each step carefully, the heels of her shoes sinking into the carpeted staircase. In the background she could hear her phone ringing again and she silently hoped that not answering would send the message to her team that they needed assistance.

'Where is Mike?'

"Everybody thinks you are dead," Sharon said evenly to distract Chloe from the ringing phone. "I've even seen the coroners' report."

"Don't believe everything you read, Captain." Once they got to the top of the large staircase, Chloe placed a hand roughly on Sharon's shoulder and steered her the right. "That door, straight ahead."

"Who was Amber Moore?" Sharon's trained eye took in her surroundings – open doors, hiding places.

"You mean 'Amber Lynn Moore'?" Chloe spoke with a southern twang. "Just some hick chick I met in Nevada."

"What happened to her?"

"You read the coroner's report."

"She was the girl that overdosed."

"Wow – you're good." Chloe retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I can see why they made you a Captain." Chloe shoved Sharon as they walked towards a closed door. "We looked similar; I told the cops she was me and apparently no one cared enough about a homeless junkie girl to check."

Sharon frowned - finding it difficult to understand how such a mistake could have been made by local law enforcement. There were procedures in place; protocol to follow in the event of any death that prevented misidentification of the deceased.

"Open the door," Amber barked, dragging the Captain from her thoughts.

Sharon lowered her right hand, twisted the knob and pushed it open; finding herself in a laarge lavishly decorated bedroom. A four poster bed - complete with drapes - stood central to the space, and the walls were littered with expensive looking Venetian mirrored furniture.

The Captain spotted Mike right away; unconscious and pushed up against a vanity unit in the corner of the bedroom. As she moved to enter the space, she felt Chloe's knee press into the back of her leg and a push to her shoulder - before she knew it - she was on the floor.

Sharon quickly scrambled on all fours across the plush carpet towards her lieutenant, cupping his face as his head lolled to the side. His skin felt hot under her palm; she shook his shoulder. "Mike, can you hear me?"

"Stand up!" Chloe yelled.

"What did you do to him?"

"He's sleeping."

"He's burning up!" Sharon placed the back of her hand to his forehead. "What the hell did you give him?" She started to loosen Mike's collar.

"You just can't help yourself can you?"

"What?" Sharon looked over her shoulder as she loosened Mike's tie and opened the top buttons on his shirt; the actress stood confidently in the doorway, gun still pointing in her direction.

"Tell me Captain, is Lieutenant Tao married too? Is that how you like them?"

"Why are you doing this Chloe?"

"Why? You ruin my fucking life - then ask me why I am doing this?"

"You seem to have done quite well for yourself," Sharon bit back as she looked around the luxuriously decorated bedroom.

"You don't know shit, lady!" Chloe took a step towards Sharon, thrusting the gun forward. The Captain quickly got to her feet and held up her hands as the younger woman continued. "Oh, I tried to put it all behind me; I got clean, went through years of counselling and therapy and I was doing just fine."

"Then what happened? What changed?"

"You."

"Me?"

"I saw you on the fucking news and it all came back."

Sharon recalled the actress saying that she had recognised her from a press conference Pope made her do, "the Marcus Campbell case."

"It was like I'd never had any help at all – back to square one - but now people are watching me and expecting me to perform like some fucking monkey." She jabbed the gun into Sharon's shoulder. "You made me remember – "

"You were living a lie, Chloe." Sharon spoke calmly. "You we pretending to be somebody that you weren't. I may have been the trigger that unlocked your memories – but I certainly wasn't the cause."

"What? How can you even say that?" Chloe took a few steps backwards. "All of this is your fault! Your affair with my dad –"

"Chloe," Sharon slowly lowered her hands. "I'm truly sorry for whatever you have had to endure as a result of your parents' death - but I was not having an affair with your father."

"You can't deny it; my brother saw you together!"

"Ian was a little boy, Chloe. A little boy who has grown up to be a very troubled young man – one that the state decided needed institutionalising."

She waved the gun in Sharon's direction. "My brother has never lied to me!"

"Your father did," Sharon responded in a level tone - she could hear sirens in the background.

'Has Lieutenant Provenza figured it out?'

"No. You're lying!"

"Chloe, I cared a lot for your father – but I never…we never…" Sharon faltered slightly.

"He told my Mom he was sleeping with you! That's why they fought – that's why she's dead!"

"I'm so sorry…" Sharon's voice was thick with emotion – her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "He was trying to use me as an alibi to avoid going to prison."

"That's not true! He said that you were having an affair – right up to when he killed himself. Why would he do that?"

"He was hoping that there would be a last minute reprieve -"

"No,"

"Chloe I swear to you. Your father was facing a long incarceration…"

"I don't believe you."

"He told those lies to protect himself; police officers rarely fare well in prison."

"You are a fucking liar!" Chloe screamed and Sharon raised her hands again.

The younger woman sat down heavily on the bed and pushed hand roughly through her thick blonde hair. "My brother should have killed you when he had the chance."

"Is that what you are going to do, Chloe? Are you going to kill me? Finish the job?"

"The thought has crossed my mind." Chloe crossed her legs and tilted the gun away slightly.

"Then why this elaborate scheme? Why the cards, the break in, the photographs?"

"All theatre darling," Chloe got to her feet again. "You know, getting the first one was a bit tricky - but I enjoyed it very much…Though not as much as your husband I might add; he told me I rocked his world."

Sharon narrowed her eyes.

"We had a very special fifteen minutes together in Vegas…"

"What?"

"Did I hit a nerve?" The younger woman invaded Sharon's personal space and pressed the gun to her side. "I'm sorry Captain Raydor – does that hurt?" She pushed Sharon backwards, her ribs connecting painfully with the corner of the vanity unit. "How the fuck do you think my mother felt?"

The Captain regained her balance as the sound of police sirens filled the room.

"What the..?" The actress side stepped around Sharon, keeping the gun aimed at her as she looked out of the window; cars were approaching from opposite ends of the street – lights flashing and sirens wailing.

"Are you wearing a wire?" She moved towards Sharon and grabbed the front of her shirt, tearing the buttons off and exposing the silk camisole underneath. "Is that how they know?"

"I'm not wearing a wire, Chloe. They found DeSalve's body - they must have figured it out."

"Shit," Chloe moved back into the room, away from the window and paced the space at the foot of the bed.

"They'll be up here any minute." Sharon pleaded with the younger woman. "If they see you with a gun –"

Chloe suddenly stopped pacing and levelled the gun at Sharon's face. "Too bad they'll be too late."

The actress squeezed the trigger.

Xxx

The Lieutenant's cars screeched to a halt at the end of the drive way. They simultaneously switched off their sirens and ran from their vehicles towards the house, guns drawn and flanked by several other officers from who had emerged from their black and whites.

"How do we know they are still in there?" Flynn asked, panic stricken as they reached the front door.

As if in answer to his question, a gunshot sounded – the bullet passed through an upstairs window - sending splinters of glass on to the concrete drive way below.

"That proof enough?" With that, Provenza raised his leg and kicked the front door open.

"LAPD – we're armed!"

xXx

It all happened in an instant; in the blink of an eye.

The split second before Chloe squeezed the trigger, Lieutenant Tao shifted on the floor; throwing off the actresses aim.

The gun went off; the bullet skimming past Sharon's hair and flying through the window behind her.

The noise was deafeningly loud; a catalyst kicking her into action.

The Captain's ears were ringing as she lunged forward, grabbing Chloe's arm and pointing the gun towards the ceiling. She used her weight to force the actress backwards until her knees connected with the nearby bed and they tumbled onto the mattress.

Sharon secured Chloe's wrist with her left hand and swung a punch at the younger woman's face with her right; her fist connecting with her jaw. Her assailant successfully stunned, the Captain retrieved the gun and pushed herself off and away from the bed – just as there was a crash from downstairs.

"LAPD – we're armed!"

xXx

"Up here!"

Andy's heart skipped a beat when he heard Sharon respond. He quickly took off in the direction of the staircase, careering upward as quickly as his shaking legs would allow – Provenza following closely behind.

When they were met with an array of closed doors - Andy desperately called out to her, "Sharon?"

"We're in here!"

Andy lunged towards her voice, threw open the door and took in the scene before him.

The actress was sprawled across a four poster bed – a dazed expression touching her bruised features. Sharon stood tall at the foot of the mattress - towering over her assailant and holding her at gun point.

"Sharon," Andy released a breath he felt like he'd been holding since the gunshot had sounded and crossed the room towards her.

Sharon blew her hair from her eyes as she turned her head to acknowledge him; green eyes expressing her relief.

"Are you okay?" Andy reached out and tentatively took her weapon, as her attacker was being hauled off of the bed by officers.

"Mike," Sharon turned sharply towards her stricken Lieutenant – to find Provenza already at his side – phone poised to call an ambulance. "She drugged him with something."

"mmm-kay" Mike slurred and attempted to get to his feet.

"Easy Mike," Provenza soothed as he pressed his cell phone to his ear. "It's over now."

"Did she hurt you?" Andy asked Sharon, cupping her chin lightly and tilting her face towards the light that was streaming through the broken window.

"I'm fine, Andy." Sharon spoke softly, shying from his touch before turning her attentions back to Chloe. It was a lie; in that moment she was far from fine. She wanted to allow Andy to comfort her, to deal with the reality of almost being killed - but now was not the place for emotional reunions.

"What the hell happened, Captain?" Andy asked, sensing her need to remain professional.

Sharon contemplated his question; she wasn't entirely sure what to tell him…she didn't really know what to tell her self. The miasma of emotions that had run though her mind; guilt, anger, fear, then relief and now…exhaustion – it was all just too much to articulate.

She pulled her blouse closed and smoothed her hair, as Chloe Banston was escorted from the room.

"We got our murderer, Lieutenant." Sharon spoke stoically, looking beyond Andy at a spot on the wall – sure that if she were to look into his eyes she would truly lose what little calm she had left. "Excuse me."

The Captain then left the room swiftly, intending to deal with her demons the way she always did; alone.

TBC


	15. Aftermath

Chapter 15

"Sharon, wait…" Instinctively Andy started after the Captain; not quite ready to let her out of his sight – the feeling that he'd lost her forever still clutched at his heart.

"Oh no you don't." The lieutenant came to a halt when he felt the heavy weight of Provenza's hand on his shoulder. He turned to face his friend, both confusion and annoyance evident in his expression. "We can't just leave her – she's obviously upset…"

"Let her be, Andy," Provenza spoke softly. "The captain clearly wants some space – let her have it."

"Keys…" Lieutenant Tao slurred from his position propped up against the actresses' vanity unit and the two detectives frowned down at their colleague. "Her keys...pocket..." he explained, moving his arm in an uncoordinated fashion towards his chest.

Quickly understanding Tao's meaning, Provenza crouched down next to the stricken Lieutenant. "You damn well better be talking about your jacket pocket..." he grumbled as he opened Tao's blazer, reached inside and successfully fished out Sharon's keys.

Andy, who was purposefully hovering just behind him, made an attempt to swipe the keys from Provenza's grip - but the elder detective deftly avoided his colleague and held Sharon's keys just out of reach. "I will take these to her."

"But…"

"No buts, Flynn; the last thing the Captain needs right now is you fussing." He signalled towards Tao, "...you stay here with pukey."

"Pukey?"

"Sick…" Mike said in warning, before dropping his head to one side and gagging.

"No…" Andy protested as he reached for a nearby wicker basket for Tao to use as a receptacle for his vomit. "Wait I…" when he turned back to confront Provenza – the lieutenant had already left the room. "Damn it!"

xXx

Sharon left the room and rushed down the staircase towards the kitchen; avoiding the eyes of her co-workers as she passed. The Captain wasn't entirely sure what she would have seen had she looked them in the eye; most of the LAPD still thought poorly of her. She wondered if the officers that had come to her rescue, actually thought she deserved everything she got.

'Maybe on this occasion they are right.'

Sharon finally reached the kitchen - which was blessedly empty - and rounded the island to retrieve her gun and phone from where Chloe had left them.

As she re-holstered her firearm, she looked down at the phone on the counter; there were over 30 missed calls – over half of which were from Lieutenant Flynn. The realisation made Sharon's eyes begin to well with tears as she imagined what Andy must have been going through. What had he expected to find when he arrived?

"Captain,"

Sharon stiffened at the sound of Lieutenant Provenza's voice. She inhaled sharply in preparation for a discussion – but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Instead she picked up her cell-phone and absently flicked through the menus – a deep frown creasing her brow as she fought to keep her tears at bay. "What is it Lieutenant?"

"Your keys." Sharon looked at Provenza fleetingly and upon glimpsing the concern in his expression - she melted a little. If she were to keep her resolve the Captain didn't need Provenza to be comforting – she needed him to be himself.

Unable to maintain eye contact, she focussed instead on the key chain that dangled from his fingers. She moved quickly to take them from his grasp, but when Provenza didn't release them – she was forced to look at him.

"Sharon,"

'Don't…' her watery green eyes pleaded with him not to continue, to simply allow her to leave without another word - but the Lieutenant chose to ignore her pleas.

"You've been through hell today," he said sincerely. "It's alright for you not to be okay right now."

Sharon nodded and closed her eyes; wiping at the singular tear that had managed to escape and roll down her cheek. She felt Provenza shifting, felt him release his hold on the keys – and for a brief moment, she feared that he would embrace her. An emotional gesture from her usually grumpy Lieutenant, would cause the walls of professionalism she had built around her heart to crumble in an instant. However as Sharon opened her eyes, to her relief she found he had simply stepped to the side to allow her to pass.

Wasting no time, the Captain uttered a quiet 'thank you' as she slipped passed Provenza and headed for the door.

She felt the eyes of the LAPD upon her as she purposefully strode down the driveway – fleeing the crime scene and longing for the privacy of her own vehicle.

With a shaking hand, she repetitively pressed the button to release the locks on her Crown Vic, hurriedly opening the door once she reached it, and sliding in behind the wheel.

Slamming the door shut behind her - Sharon braced herself - clenching the steering wheel; the enormity of what had just happened too much for her to quash. Her ears were still ringing from the blast of the gun - her heart still pounded in her chest; despite her best efforts, a sob escaped her throat. She lowered her head and clung to the steering wheel, as a plethora of emotions shook her slight frame - her restrained sobs barely audible in the silence of the vehicle.

Sharon squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to fight back her tears - but the image of the gun held just inches from her face flashed into her mind's eye. She instantly opened her eyes; her breath caught in her throat and she gasped for air as she recalled too clearly the thoughts that passed through her mind in that split second before the gun went off. Sharon had truly thought that her number was up.

She remembered vividly how aware she had been in that moment; it was as if everything superficial, everything on the surface had disappeared - giving her complete clarity of thought and unbidden – raw emotion. Sharon had said a silent prayer; she thought of her children, of Rusty, her parents, her siblings, and her team - of everything she had to be thankful for...for everyone she held dear.

She too felt concern; concern for her children having to deal with the loss of their mother, her elderly parents at losing a daughter, for what would happen to Rusty, for her team at finding her lifeless body…and for Andy...

'Andy,'

Then there was regret.

Personal happiness was something that Sharon had forgone. First for her husband, then for her children, her faith and her career.

'I've spent half a lifetime ignoring my heart.' 

An ambulance turning into the road ahead of her - followed closely by a press van - forced the Captain to get a hold on her senses. She had to leave now; more journalists were sure to follow - and this time, Sharon was part of their story.

xXx

As the Captain's car pulled away from the curb, Provenza looked on from the entrance to the actress's house. Being no stranger to a 'near death experience' himself, the lieutenant could relate to his Captain's state of mind.

In this type of situation, Provenza would normally spend time with his buddies from the squad. They'd go to a bar, grab some food and beer and make light of each other - anything to keep their minds off of the fact that one of their own had almost just died.

If Sharon wanted to deal with what had happened on her own, then he would let her – but if his 'pain in the ass' partner Flynn had anything to do with it, her solitude would be short lived.

'Flynn…How stupid could the man be? Not only is she our boss- but she's 'queen of the rule book' Raydor. Dumb ass is more likely to get strung up on a sexual harassment charge than get his leg….' Provenza shivered, '…best not go there…'

Now, the Lieutenant had a speech planned for his friend – something about choosing his conquests more wisely and punching above his weight – but when they had arrived at the actresses house, Provenza's 'speech' was rendered futile.

Just seeing the stricken expression on Flynn's face had confirmed Provenza's worst fears; they were way past 'the speech.' The exchange between his Captain and partner had also hinted that Andy's advances may not be altogether unrequited.

'Idiots.' Provenza rolled his eyes as he watched the Captain pull away from the curb – just as an ambulance turned into the road. The arrival of a vehicle following the ambulance however, was what grabbed his attention – it also drew his grumbles away from his colleagues and onto the persons contained within.

"Press," He seethed as the ambulance parked on the drive and the paramedics disembarked - hurriedly heading towards him.

"He's upstairs," he greeted the paramedics before turning to address a young officer on the door. "Officer, set the perimeter – vultures at 12 o'clock."

"Right away, Sir."

"Follow me." Provenza led the two medics upstairs and into the large bedroom where Tao was being nursed by Flynn. The paramedics quickly took over, and as they worked on Tao, Andy made a beeline for the elder Lieutenant. "What did Sharon say? Is she okay?"

"The Captain is fine, Flynn." Provenza responded irritably. "Just give her a little space."

"But,"

"Andy, listen to me." Provenza interrupted. "I know you care a lot for Sharon…"

"I…"

Provenza held his hand up, halting Flynn's tirade before it started. "I don't need the particulars; dear God spare me the particulars."

Flynn scowled at his friend and folded his arms over his chest.

"If you want - whatever it is that you have got going on - to work, then you are going to have to give her some space. The woman's been alone for over twenty years; don't crowd her."

"Dating advice from you? Really?"

"Call it whatever you want, Flynn. Just give it some time; let her know you care but for God's sake don't be your overbearing self."

"I am not overbearing."

"Ok, Flynn." Provenza rolled his eyes at his partner and turned to leave.

"I'm not!" Andy protested weakly as he followed his friend from the room to allow the paramedics space to work on their fallen comrade.

xXx

Sharon had no idea where she was headed, until had she turned her car into the road.

Familiarity crept over her as she parked up in the quiet suburban cul-de-sac. Ahead of her stood a well kempt, Mediterranean style, one story house; this was the house where she had raised her children.

Sharon inhaled slowly and exhaled shakily; for the most part, the house looked the same. She wondered if the handprints her kids made in concrete were still in the front yard or if the tree house ever got completed out back.

She recalled how thrilled she had been when Jackson found the house. Sure, it had needed a little work – but there was a large backyard, it was in a great school district and well situated for both of their jobs; it was to be the perfect home in which to raise their family.

But their time spent there had been far from perfect...

"Jesus Sharon, you scared me!" Jackson stood in the dimly lit foyer, shoes in his hands and jacket thrown over his arm; he was poised to sneak through the house. "What are you still doing up?"

"You're home late," Sharon said flatly, standing across from her husband in the darkened sitting room.

"I went out for a few drinks with the guys," he waved an arm at her dismissively. 

Sharon took a step forwards and flicked the light switch for the entrance hall, causing Jack to wince at the sudden brightness. "You're drunk."

"I came home early – the other guys are still down at Joe's…"

As Sharon approached him, she recoiled at the stench of stale liquor – and a subtle undertone of something else….

She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "Do the 'guys' you had drinks with wear Chanel?"

"What?" He rolled his eyes. "Not this again, Sharon. The waitress got a little familiar until I told her I was married – then she turned on Marty. If you ask me – the girl had a daddy complex…"

"You're a lousy liar, Jack."

"Damn it Sharon – I am not having an affair!" he raised his voice and Sharon threw a cautionary glance down the hallway, to where their young children slept.

"Keep your voice down," She hissed, walking past him and heading for the kitchen to continue their argument – Jack however had other plans.

"I'm going to bed," he slurred and turned to leave.

"Oh, no you're not," Sharon stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, hands on her hips. "We are having this conversation right now."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child, Sharon."

"Then stop acting like one, Jack."

They stared each other down for a few beats, before Jack submitted. "Fine," he threw both his shoes and jacket on the floor and stomped past Sharon like a scolded teenager. "But I'm having another drink."

"Of course you are," Sharon sniped sarcastically as her husband opened the refrigerator door - but when he slammed it closed again, it caught her completely off guard.

"Jack…" She looked at him startled.

"You know what, Sharon," his bloodshot eyes were blazing. "I'm not having an affair – but if I was – could you blame me?"

"Meaning?"

"Have you looked at yourself lately?"

Sharon looked down at her LAPD sweats, then back to her husband – wide eyed. "How dare you?"

"No, not this," Jack gestured drunkenly to her attire. "I mean…You look tired, Sharon. Worn out – and you're so God Damned cranky all the time…" 

There was a hint of concern in her husband's tone – but Sharon chose to ignore it. "I'm on the early shift every day so that I can meet the kids from school; Ricky's having night terrors – of course you might know that if you weren't sleeping in a drunken coma every damn night."

"You're being cranky again – look – so I have a few drinks after work now and again?" Sharon opened her mouth to speak but Jackson continued before she had the chance. "I work hard – I need to unwind and when I come home and you're all like…this – I can't."

"You need to unwind? What about me Jack? When do I get a chance to relax and do what I want to do?"

Jack shrugged and slumped onto a chair at the kitchen table. "I don't know, Sharon." He softened his tone. "But something's got to give, this…" he gestured into the space between them, "…this is not good for either of us."

Sharon felt herself relax a little, knowing that Jack understood how she felt; but as she came to take a seat across form him that calm left her in an instant. 

"Maybe you should cut back a little."

Sharon's eyebrows retreated to her hairline. "My hours were not an issue when I was putting you through law school; when I was putting in double time to keep this family afloat."

"That's right. And now we are afloat."

"I love my job, Jack."

"More than me and the kids?"

"What? How can you even say that?"

"We never see each other, Sharon. I miss my wife…" He looked across the table at her, his blood shot eyes taking on a pathetic neediness that she would eventually grow to detest. 

"I've been home since four, Jack. No one made you stay out till midnight drinking with your buddies."

"Touché, Sharon." Jack flopped back in his chair, defeated. "As usual – you are right."

"No, it's not that," Sharon responded quickly and reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. "It's just that…I think that maybe we both have to make sacrifices here..."

If only the LADP knew; Captain 'Darth' Raydor transferred to Internal Affairs to save her marriage.

Sharon smirked to herself; it was just like Jack to turn an argument about him having an affair, into a discussion about her career – the master manipulator at work.

But alas – the transfer did anything but save their marriage.

Spending more time with Jack had given Sharon a glimpse into just how much he was drinking; further investigation led her to realise just how much he was gambling – and then Florida...

And then their separation.

And then Jimmy.

And then Ian.

For the second time in as many days, Sharon's mind flashed back to the night Ian Banston had attacked her in her home; how she was beaten – almost to the edge of consciousness - in front of her frightened children.

Sharon dropped the sun-visor above the windscreen and surveyed the more recent damage to her face. She raised her hand to a fresh bruise that coloured her cheek; courtesy of yet another member of the Banston family.

'Chloe…'

The front door to the house opening, brought Sharon back to the present. She flipped the sun visor back up and watched silently as a young family stepped out; a young mother with a toddler and a baby in a push-chair. The toddler, a young boy, waddled towards the gate – and excited gleeful expression on his face and Sharon smiled; there were some happy times spent at this house too.

Lazy summer days in the back yard, building dens in the sitting room with bedding and chairs, movie nights…

'This really was a great house to raise kids.'

As the family strolled past Sharon's car – seemingly unaware of her presence – she felt a wave of calm wash over her.

After everything that she had gone through in that house; everything with Jack, with the kids… she'd gotten through worse than this. She'd gotten her kids through it.

Sharon sighed and closed her eyes, feeling the sun on her face through the windscreen.

'This too will pass.'

But as Sharon moved to restart the car and leave her past behind – something niggled at her. Now her children had grown and left the nest – and Rusty would inevitably follow suit – what did that mean for her?

You'll get yours.

You reap what you sow.

Maybe it was true. Maybe after everything that she had been through – everything she had sacrificed – she could now finally pursue the happiness she deserved.

Her mind made up, Sharon turned the car around and drove confidently towards her future.

TBC


	16. Closing

Chapter 16

Captain Raydor boarded the elevator and pressed the button for the Major Crimes floor - feeling considerably more together than she had done for the past few days.

The fog of uncertainty had lifted; her mind was truly clear for the first time since the greetings card from Chloe Banston had landed on her door mat.

Sharon's new found clarity however, did not come without fresh anxieties…nor did it allow her to escape the guilt; what had happened to the Banston children was a burden she would shoulder for the rest of her life.

It wasn't much of a consolation - but from now on at least - she could ensure that both Ian and Chloe got the help that they needed.

As the elevator doors slid open, Sharon adjusted her suit jacket over her torn-up blouse – it was past repair - but thankfully the only real casualty of that morning's events.

There was still a case to close and Taylor to deal with, but Sharon looked to both with more optimism that one would expect, considering she had spent the morning with a gun to her head.

Almost dying had made Sharon realise that for the past decade, she hadn't really lived.

"Captain," Detective Amy Sykes leapt to her feet as her superior entered the murder room. "Are you okay? I heard what happened I…"

"I'm fine, Amy – thank you," Sharon said reassuringly as she looked to Provenza, who eyed her with equal concern from his desk. "Really," she pressed – offering him a tight smile. "I'm okay…How is Lieutenant Tao?"

"Mike's fine," Provenza scoffed as he got to his feet and crossed the office to join her. "High as a kite and entertaining the nurses with renditions of 80's TV themes…but he's fine."

"TV themes?" Sharon frowned, a bemused smile touching her lips.

"We left after his encore of The Golden Girls, Ma'am." Sanchez entered carrying drinks for the team from the break-room. "His wife's with him now."

"Oh," Sharon's smile broadened as she pictured the scene in her mind's eye; but she quickly stifled her mirth when she thought about how serious the situation could have been. "Do we know what Chloe Banston slipped him?"

"Something only Mike could pronounce." Andy entered the office behind Sharon, smiling sheepishly at her when she turned to face him. "Good news is, it's depleting naturally and will cause no lasting damage…Hey, Captain."

"Lieutenant Flynn," she smiled back at him; apparently their gazes lingered longer than was comfortable for Lieutenant Provenza – who impatiently cleared his throat.

"Captain, Chloe Banston is in interview 2 with her lawyer and Hobbs is on her way over. Did you want me to take this one or..?"

"Captain Raydor," The familiar tones of Assistant Chief Taylor entered the room and the team turned in unison to face him; distaste evident on all of their expressions. "Am I hearing this correctly? Our actress is Jimmy Banston's daughter?"

"Yes, Sir." Sharon folded her arms protectively over her chest; preparing herself for the inevitable onslaught. "That is correct."

"And how did you become so…entrenched in all of this?" Taylor came to stand before the team, his eyebrows furrowed inquisitively.

"Well Chief," Captain Raydor moved to lead Taylor to her office. "If you'd care to step into my office, I would be more than happy to…"

"I only ask, Captain," Taylor refused to budge, "…because this is the first I am hearing of it."

Sharon narrowed her eyes; this was not a conversation that she was ready to have in front of her team. "Oh I'm sorry - have you not read the Banston file, Chief?" Her tone deftly conveyed her annoyance.

"Some time ago, Captain." Taylor ignored her obvious irritation at his question and proceeded. "So, please – humour me."

"Well," feeling the anger coming from her team, Sharon took a step towards Taylor – putting herself between them and him. "It would appear that Chloe Banston blames me for what happened to her family."

"And why would she do that, Captain?"

Sharon stiffened. It was clear that Taylor was trying to make an example of her; although she struggled to see to what end. Before she had a chance to respond, Lieutenant Flynn interjected. "You mean aside from the fact that Chloe Banston is crazy, Chief?"

"You spent with time this family, Captain. You went through the academy with Jimmy," Taylor continued, ignoring Andy's question. "You really didn't know it was her?"

Sharon's fingers dug painfully into her own arms; she'd be damned if she would rise to his provocations. "What do you think, Chief?" She asked calmly.

"What I think, Captain is that the press is going to have a field day with this."

'And there it is,' Sharon thought. "The reason for Taylor's petty show; the reputation of the LAPD.'

She opened her mouth to respond, sharp words ready on her tongue – but thankfully Lieutenant Provenza beat her to it. "Oh it'll be a circus, alright," he stepped forward to stand beside his Captain. "And just like you, we will all do our upmost to support the Captain through what I'm sure will be a difficult time for her and her family."

Taylor raised his chin defiantly as he eyed the Major Crimes division; it appeared to Sharon that their solidarity was unnerving him.

In the background, she could hear the clicking of heels approaching at a determined pace. DDA Hobbs had arrived – coming to an abrupt halt when she surveyed the tense scene before her.

Eventually, maybe because they now had an outside audience, Taylor conceded. "Of course," he said unconvincingly. "Are you...okay, Captain?"

"Baring up Sir," Sharon raised her eyebrows.

"You should put some ice on that bruise under your eye."

'Oh, you noticed?' Sharon thought – choosing instead to say, "thank you for your concern."

Taylors gaze passed over the team, before returning to the Captain. Sharon knew that the Assistant Chief cared more about the LAPD's reputation than he did about his team; he didn't like it when that boat was rocked.

As her direct superior – if her reputation was on the line – so was his. Russell Taylor had always possessed the ability to cover his own ass; Sharon knew that if she didn't keep her cool in this situation - he could very well hang hers out to dry.

"Right then." Taylor clapped his hands together, causing Sharon to jump slightly. "Let's just get this wrapped up as soon as possible; I'm giving a news conference at 4." With that Taylor nodded in greeting to the attorney hovering patiently on the periphery, "DDA Hobbs," turned on his heel, and retreated to his office.

Sharon watched as her superior left the room and as the team dispersed, she released the breath she had been holding.

A voice from behind her called for her attention.

"Captain Raydor?"

The Captain turned to see DDA Hobbs, briefcase in hand. The blonde winced when she got a look at the bruising on Sharon's face. "Are you okay?"

"Andrea," Sharon offered the attorney a tight smile. "I…I'm fine I…" Sharon looked to her team who were all patiently awaiting her direction. "One moment please, Andrea…" Sharon excused herself and approached her Lieutenants who were conversing by the murder board.

"Lieutenant Provenza, has our suspect been mirandized?"

"Yes Captain."

"Very well. I would like to speak with DDA Hobbs before making a decision on final sentencing."

"We're dealing on this?" Andy asked incredulously. "It's murder one - pure and simple."

"I have to agree with Flynn on this one, Captain." Provenza concurred – but unlike his early reservations about the deal making process – to Sharon's ears, his tone was decidedly more calm. "The girl orchestrated two murders with the intention of getting to you – which she did. She's had us chasing our asses for the past few days – and we're Major Crimes," he added with a hint of sarcasm, "we're supposed to be the elite."

"I'll take all of your comments on board Lieutenants, however it is important that we look at the whole picture here. Chloe Banston's past has much to do with her present - and she always intended to get caught. The girls an exhibitionist – do we really want to give her the floor in a drawn out court case?"

"Well," Andy considered. "When you put it that way…"

"Oh, trust you to take her side." Provenza snapped and Andy rolled his eyes.

"Now, I doubt very much if Miss Banston's lawyer will take too kindly if I conduct the interview myself," The Captain continued. "Can I trust the two of you to take this for me?"

"Sure thing," Andy agreed, looking a little surprised that Sharon had asked him; Provenza simply shrugged one shoulder.

"Thank you, both. Please, allow me 10 minutes with DDA Hobbs and I'll be right with you."

As Sharon retreated to her office and closed the door, Provenza dropped into his seat with a huff, "This isn't about getting justice – it's about protecting the reputation of the LAPD."

"And one of our own, Sir." Amy, who'd been standing close by, spoke cautiously - sparing a glance at the Captain's office.

"She's right Louis," Andy sat on the edge of his partners desk. "I can only imagine the media storm that will come with a high profile case like this."

"Oh, I know that," Provenza said dismissively. "I just hate it when Taylor is right." He grabbed a file from a nearby stack of papers and hit Andy with it. "Uh, did I say you could sit on my desk?"

xXx

"God, Sharon," Andrea exclaimed, as they entered the Captain's office. "Provenza told me what happened," the blonde placed her hand lightly on her friend's shoulder; blue eyes scanning the brunette's mottled bruises. "Are you akay?"

"You should see the other guy." Sharon said dryly as she moved towards her desk and pulled a mirror from her top drawer; surveying the damage to her face. "Urgh,"she recoiled from her reflection. "I am getting too old for this."

Hobbs placed her briefcase in a chair and perched on the edge of Sharon's desk, eyeing her friend with concern – the two women had become close over the past two years, and as a result, Andrea was already familiar with the Banston case. "And you really had no idea that Amber Moore was Chloe Banston?"

Sharon looked sarcastically at Andrea and the lawyer held her hands up defensively. "Hey, I'm only asking – this sounds like an episode from that crappy soap opera she stars in." She clasped her hands in front of her. "So…how do you want me to play this?"

"Well," Sharon closed the blinds and wandered over to her closet, pulling out the crisply ironed white shirt she kept for such emergencies. "The murders were certainly pre-meditated..."

"Murder in the first; no deal?"

"I'm pretty sure her lawyer will suggest that she pleads insanity," the brunette placed the garment on the desk and made short work of her jacket and torn blouse. "Chloe on the other hand…"

"Well," Andrea scoffed. "Her lawyer can try…"

"I'm inclined to go with it…" Sharon said thoughtfully.

"Sharon, we don't need a deal…"

"Andrea, I have spent time with this girl; she needs treatment," Sharon pulled the shirt over her shoulders and flipped her hair out from under the collar. "If she goes into the prison system she'll be hooked on heroin again in no time at all."

"You are not responsible for what happened to her."

"I am, Andrea." the Captain protested as she finished buttoning up the front of her shirt and shifted to fasten the cuffs. "Maybe not directly – but I have to take some responsibility. I should have checked on them when they were growing up; if I'd have known their grandmother had died…"

"Should have, would have, could have," Andrea said casually. "Sharon, think about the families of Jessica Ardell and Franco DeSalve. Chloe Banston planned all of it, which indicates heightened intelligence and awareness of her actions. She knew that what she was doing was wrong, as it was done intentionally to attract the attention of the police. She is not insane."

"She slept with, Jackson."

"Oh my God," Andrea deadpanned. "Then I stand corrected."

As Sharon tucked her fresh shirt into her black dress trousers, the two women shared a smile. "Look, honestly, Andrea, - I don't want this to go to trial." Sharon said, her smile fading to a frown, her hands retreating to her pockets. "This isn't about saving my own ass – but the media attention that will come with this court case…I have to think of my family in all of this. They've already been through so much – and as you witnessed earlier, Chief Taylor would certainly appreciate it if we could wrap this up before his press conference a 4."

"I bet he would," Andrea arched an eyebrow and looked at her watch. "Well," she got to her feet and began pacing the space in front of Sharon's desk. "An insanity plea would certainly add credence to your series of events."

"Meaning?" Sharon frowned.

"Chloe's side of the story - the one that is bound to be plastered over the front of tomorrow's newspapers - is that a Captain from the LAPD had a torrid affair with her father. An insanity plea will most definitely change public perception of what she claims happened."

"Well, that's good." Sharon nodded as she pulled on her jacket. "Although my main concern here, is that Chloe likes a stage. Even if her lawyer thinks that insanity is her best option - she may still push to go to trial."

"Well," Andrea stepped towards her friend. "Once I put the death penalty on the table – I have a feeling that her lawyer will persuade her to change her mind."

"Let's hope," Sharon pulled her jacket straight, ran her fingers through her hair and stepped around Andrea to leave. "Okay, are you ready?" She paused and looked back, her hand on the door handle.

The attorney took a single step towards the door, before something caught her attention on Sharon's desk. Andrea picked up the item, and turned to face the brunette – a stricken expression on her face. "Chanel?

Sharon looked mournfully at the damaged garment that dangled loosely from Andrea's fingers and nodded glumly. "It was vintage."

xXx

"Where's Captain Raydor?" Chloe asked contemptuously as the two lieutenants entered interview 2 to retrieve the actress's confession.

"She's busy." Provenza said flatly and took a seat; Fynn followed suit – straightening his tie as he sat.

"So…How's her face?" The young blonde leant forward on the table, purposefully exposing a great deal of cleavage - a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Miss Banston, I must advise you to refrain from…" The actress's lawyer, a sharply dressed, balding man in his late-forties, warned his client not to continue.

"Oh relax, Jerry." Chloe snapped at him. "Raydor's fine – I'm sure she's watching - she wouldn't miss this…" The actress looked up to the camera. "How's your face? You old bitch!"

xXx

From her position in the comms room, Sharon bristled at the actress's words; though her reaction was not bourn from vanity – but rather as to how Andy would react to her being personally attacked.

"Well, she is delightful." Buzz responded in an attempt lighten the mood.

"Isn't she just." Sharon agreed as she watched the screen with interest.

Considering Lieutenant Flynn's propensity to be quick-tempered – and their new found closeness – she knew that she was taking a chance even allowing him in the same room as Chloe. But Sharon also knew, that after what had transpired between herself and their suspect, this was the perfect test to determine if Andy and she really could keep a romantic relationship out of the office.

She could only hope that Andy understood the gravity of the task before him.

xXx

"A little less bravado please, Miss Banston," Andy kept his cool. "You're in a pretty bad position here."

"Is that right?" Chloe tilted her chin defiantly. "Define bad?"

"Two counts of murder one, one count of assaulting an officer, one count of attempted murder, one count of perverting the course of justice…" Provenza looked to her lawyer. "Need I go on?"

Before her lawyer could respond, Chloe jumped in. "The only thing I regret - is not putting a bullet in that whores head."

"Miss Banston!" The lawyer warned his client for the second time.

"Well," Andy jabbed the table with his finger for emphasis. "You should know – that right now – the lady that you speak of - is the only person standing between you and death row."

"You aim too charge my client with murder one?" The lawyer asked, scribbling some notes onto his pad.

"Oh, keep up, Jerry," Provenza sniped.

"There hasn't been a woman executed in California since the 60's." Chloe smiled smugly. "I did my homework."

"Oh I bet you did," Andy chuckled sarcastically. "Just another fine example of how well you planned the murders of Franco DeSalve and Jessica Ardell. Did you also know that the last woman to be executed was also convicted of premeditated murder?" He leant forwards in his chair, offering her a smug smile of his own. "The death penalty is never off the table in a case as heinous as yours."

"And with your celebrity profile, pretty looks and stellar personality – I really don't fancy your chances in a state penitentiary," Provenza added.

"I can hold my own." Chloe said with slightly less conviction, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest like a scolded child.

"What do you think, Jerry?" Andy asked, his relaxed demeanour deftly indicated to the lawyer that they had his client over a barrel.

"Ok," Jerry's gaze travelled between the two lieutenants, loosening his collar nervously before he spoke. "What's your counter?"

"Jerry!" Chloe yelled and turned towards her lawyer, just as Provenza signalled for the DDA to make her appearance.

xXx

'Earlier today, the soap opera actress known as Amber Moore was brought in for questioning in relation to the murders of her assistant Jessica Ardell, her agent Franco DeSalve aka Howard Francis Workman, and the attempted murder of a decorated Captain of the LAPD. 

For the record – please note that it was discovered through the course of our investigation, that the suspect's true name was one Chloe Banston. 

I can confirm that as of 3pm today, Pacific Standard Time, Chloe Banston pleaded guilty to all three charges – with diminished responsibility on the grounds of Insanity….' 

Sharon sipped mint tea as she watched Taylor's press conference from the comfort of her office. Whilst her superior soaked up the limelight, the Captain rested back in her chair, thankful that their working day was drawing to a close.

Her gaze shifted from the computer monitor, through the open blinds and into the murder room - where the clean-up process had begun. The Major Crimes team cleared the murder board and boxed up case files; although the closing of any case was satisfying - their feeling of achievement was always marred by the fact that LA would soon deliver them their next victim.

A soft rapping at the door drew Sharon from her thoughts. She placed her cup and saucer on the desk and straightened up in her chair before sounding a response. "Come in."

"Hey, Captain,"

"Hey…I…" the rest of Sharon's response was caught in her throat when she saw Lieutenant Flynn standing in the threshold to her office.

Andy had loosened his blue tie, opened the top button on his shirt, rolled up his sleeves and his jacket was thrown over his left shoulder. Sharon wasn't entirely sure why his casual state of dress was having such an effect on her…but she was undeniably flustered.

Earlier, all things considered, her lieutenant had handled himself and their suspect incredibly well. He had in fact, passed her 'remain professional at work' test with flying colours – which excited and terrified Sharon at the same time.

She was certainly running out of reasons to keep Andy Flynn at arm's length.

"Taylor having his moment of glory?"

"Taylor?" Sharon faltered, a slight frown creasing her brow. "Oh, Taylor!" She internally kicked herself into gathering her thoughts and reached for the monitor to turn the volume down. "Yes," she smiled thinly, fighting the flush in her cheeks.

"Right…" Andy bobbed his head. "Um, so…we're just about finished out here…"

"Great," Sharon quickly got to her feet and crossed the office towards the door. "Are you all heading out?"

"Yeah," they joined the rest of the team. "We're going for drinks - if you'd like to join us?"

"Are you coming for drinks, Captain?" Sykes asked hopefully, as she lugged a box of files onto a nearby cart that was destined for storage.

"Um…I thank you for the offer," Sharon clasped her hands in front of her. "But I'm afraid I'll have to give it a miss. Rusty is on his way here and will I need to explain this," she pointed to the bruising on her face, "to him, before he hears my name on the news and panics."

"That makes sense, I guess." Andy nodded - though he was unable to keep the disappointment from his expression.

"And I'd like to see Mike on my way home," she added. "Make sure he's okay."

"Oh don't you worry - I'll have that drink for you, Captain." Provenza joked, pulling on his jacket as he joined Sykes, and Sanchez in preparation to leave.

"I'm sure you will, Lieutenant." Sharon smirked, before turning back to Andy and placing her hand tentatively on his arm. "Rain-check?" She asked.

"Sure," a sideways smile tugged at his lips as he read her expression; her gaze full of promise. "Have a nice evening, Captain."

"You too." Sharon smiled broadly rocked a little on her heels, an oddly giddy feeling passing though her body. "All of you," she quickly added, when she noticed Provenza's stony expression. It appeared that Andy wasn't the only person in the room who had caught the deeper meaning behind her words. "And great job today – a really great job."

"Thanks Ma'am." Sanchez said with a wave as he turned and headed for the elevator.

"Thank you, Captain." Sykes followed Sanchez to the elevator. "Have a good night."

"Thank you, Sharon," Andy said, but when he didn't instantly move to leave – he got a gentle shove to the side from his crotchety partner.

"Can we go already?" Provenza asked as he herded his friend towards the exit.

"Easy," Andy playfully scolded the Lieutenant. "Bye, Sharon." He smiled, walking backwards towards the exit.

"See you tomorrow, Captain." Provenza called over his shoulder. "Make sure you ice that eye."

"I will," As Sharon watched them round the corner and disappear out of sight, she rested back against Andy's desk with a sigh. "Bye..." she whispered to an empty office.

xXx

Soft, flickering candle light danced across Sharon's pale skin as she gathered her hair to the top of her head and secured it in place with a clip. Loose, dark-auburn tendrils fell about her bare shoulders as she tentatively tested the temperature of the bath water with her toe.

'Ooh!' Sharon sucked air in through her teeth, pulling her foot quickly from the hot water to add some more cold to the mix. Perching on the edge of the tub she swirled the water around with her fingers; her aching muscles longing for the soothing properties that only a hot bath could provide.

Having a soak in the tub had actually been Rusty's idea; he had being fussing around her like a mother-hen since they returned to their apartment. Currently, he was clearing away dinner, which he had also prepared, so that she could – in his words – 'you know, chill' for a bit.

Sharon smiled to herself as she turned off the cold tap; it was quite the novelty to have someone fuss over her.

Removing her towel and draping it over the rail, Sharon carefully stepped into the tub and gradually lowered herself into the bubbles – relaxing into the steamy infusion of tangerine and ginger scented water.

She reached for the glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc that she had placed on the corner of the tub in preparation and took a sip.

"Bliss," she muttered, carefully placing the glass back on the side of the tub before sinking further into the water.

Feeling her limbs loosening, she closed her eyes, and allowed the soothing water to wash away the events of the past few days.

Well, not all of them.

Not for the first time that day, Sharon's mind drifted back to the feeling of having Andy's lips on her own, his body pressed against hers...This time however, she didn't fight the feeling – she explored it.

Even with everything that had happened over the past few days, when Sharon had simply let her mind wonder to the possibility of what may have happened - had they not been interrupted…the way her body reacted…

"Damn…" She moaned, pealing one eye open, as a buzzing on a shelf at the foot of the tub rudely dragged her from her lascivious daydream.

Sharon stared at the offensive object, cursing the interruption, until eventually curiosity got the better of her. She reluctantly wriggled into a seated position – dried her hand on the nearby towel and picked up her phone. She squinted and enlarged the text on the screen to read it - flushing instantly when she noticed that the message was from Andy.

'Hey, Sharon. Hope you are enjoying your night. Just dropped Provenza home. He had that drink for you…and for me…he'll be crabbier than usual tomorrow ' 

Sharon's smile at reading the text, morphed into a devilish smirk as she typed in her reply – then without giving it a second thought she pressed send.

'Thanks, I appreciate the heads-up! Yes, it's been a nice relaxing night…just having a bubble bath…' 

Her smirk stayed firmly in position until she opened Andy's expectedly speedy response – which caused a laugh to escape her throat.

'Groan!'

xXx

As the water drained from the tub, Sharon wiped the condensation from the mirror and stared at her blurry reflection. Even without the aid of her glasses, she could quite clearly see the black bruising around her eye and cheek. She touched a finger to the area, and flinched at how tender the skin was; no stranger to a black eye – Sharon knew that the bruise still had some developing to do.

She sighed as she pulled on her robe and placed her glasses gently on the bridge of her nose before leaving the bathroom

"Good soak?" Rusty asked from the couch as Sharon entered the living room.

"It was lovely, thank you."

"Erm…Were you laughing in there?" He twisted to watch her enter the kitchen, a bemused smile on his lips. "Cause I could have sworn I heard you laughing…"

Sharon blushed a little as she placed the empty wine glass on the counter top. "You must be hearing things."

"Okay," He turned back to the TV, his smile broadening at her embarrassment. "I thought maybe you'd snuck Lieutenant Flynn in there with you…"

"Ha Ha," Sharon responded with a dose of sarcasm, before checking her phone for any further messages from said Lieutenant. It was then that she noticed the voicemail icon was highlighted on her screen.

A slight frown creased her brow as she pressed the phone to her ear. Sharon dialled into her messages as she opened the refrigerator door and pulled out the open bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

'You have three new messages,' 

The first message – from Assistant Chief Taylor wanting an update on their case - was promptly deleted, however the second got her full attention.

'Captain, listen…' Lieutenant Provenza's panic stricken voice sent chills up Sharon's spine and she tightened her grip on the neck of the cool wine bottle. 'Amber Moore is Chole Banston – I repeat- the actress is Chloe Banston. Just sit tight…we're on our way."

Sharon placed the bottle on the counter next to the glass, before slowly pulling the phone from her ear saving the message. She would be eternally grateful to Louis Provenza for making the connection between their cases - it was partly due to him that she was still around to hear the message at all.

'Next new message…'

'Sharon, damnit! Answer your phone!' 

At the sound of Andy speaking her name, Sharon froze; the desperation with which the word was delivered clutched at her heart.

'Please, just please…Oh God be okay…I need you…I need you to be okay…'

The automated options on the answer machine followed Andy's message – yet Sharon barely heard them.

Tears threatened as she replayed his words in her mind; hearing him so terrified at the prospect of losing her…she closed her eyes and swallowed – her throat suddenly parched.

Those words…his words…and the raw emotion behind them were tangible evidence to the fact that feelings between them had escalated far beyond the realms of infatuation…And the warm-fluttering feeling that revelation evoked in Sharon's chest, was confirmation enough.

Sharon was finally ready to let her heart rule her head.

TBC


	17. The Result

You'll Get Yours – Chapter 17

Sharon hung up the call and clutched her cell phone to her chest with one hand; the other gripped the edge of kitchen counter – the granite surface, cooling her heated palm. The desperate voice mail Andy had left, was replaying in her mind - and the mixed emotions that message stirred up, were throwing her thoughts into chaos.

Just hearing Andy say that he needed her – his tone stripped of the usual bravado...

Sharon ached to see him…but past experience kept her rooted to the spot; the scars of her marriage made her doubt her judgement - severing that connection between yearning and action.

Her inclination to carefully analyse every single emotion...it was currently winning out.

She tentatively placed her phone on to the counter, staring at it longingly, as if willing Andy to call and put an end to the internal squabble between her head and her heart.

'Maybe I should just call him?'

Sharon looked at her watch – it was almost 10.

It was quite late; although Sharon knew that time was really of no consequence. Her hesitation was borne from the situation requiring an element of spontaneity – a personality trait more synonymous with the man she so desperately wanted to see. When it came to affairs of the heart - Sharon was far from impulsive; her marriage to Jackson had certainly proof of that.

'But Andy is not Jackson!' Her subconscious screamed – and eventually she chose to listen.

"I'm being ridiculous," Sharon muttered under her breath as she swiped the phone from the counter and retreated to her bedroom.

Rusty, who was currently absorbed in the latest episode of his favourite sitcom, spared his foster mother a curious half-glance as she swept past him and headed down the hall.

Sharon closed the bedroom door behind her, shutting out the canned laughter from the TV, and took a seat on the bed – her fingers deftly finding Andy's number on her cell-phone as she sat.

But then she froze.

'What do I even say to him?' She scowled down at his number on the phone screen…she knew how she felt about Andy…but to actually articulate it…the right words escaped her.

Her hands fell to her sides and she looked to the heavens with a sigh; frustrated with her sudden loss of confidence. If the shoe was on the other foot – Andy would be banging the door down to see her – she knew.

However to Sharon, being the one to suggest that they move their relationship forward, was a terrifying prospect. What if it didn't work out? What if one of them was transferred? Or retired?

"How many more years will you be in the police force, Sharon?" Andy's words from earlier that week mocked her indecision.

It was true; both she and Andy were approaching retirement…not that either of them intended on handing in their badge anytime soon...but what would happen once they did?

It wasn't just the ramifications entering into relationship with a subordinate could have on her career that concerned Sharon…it was because she would be taking that plunge with Andy Flynn.

It was well known that Andy had a penchant for dating women half his age.

Sharon flopped back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling - she chewed her lip thoughtfully, just as self-doubt gnawed at her insides. 'What if we take the plunge and he gets bored? What if he's disappointed?' 

She groaned exasperatedly before casting her gaze along the comforter, across to the cell phone she still held firmly in her hand.

'Why is this so hard?' 

xXx

"Why do I even pay to watch this crap?"

Andy sat on his couch in a faded grey LAPD t-shirt and his boxer shorts - remote control in hand – angrily jabbing it in the direction of the TV set. He'd been channel surfing for the longest time, trying to find something to watch that could draw his mind away from thoughts of Sharon. His half eaten lasagne sat in front of him on the coffee table – the day's events had left his gut too twisted to eat.

Ordinarily, when he were alone and his mind drifted to thoughts of the leggy brunette, Andy would simply…release the tension on his own - but tonight he felt conflicted. His emotions were being pulled in opposing directions – flitting between the metal imagery of Sharon soaking in the tub…and the realisation that today, he had almost lost her.

He drew his eyes from the TV for a second to scowl at his phone; she was driving him insane and the worst thing was, that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

'Sharon…I'll wait for you,' as he recalled, were his exact words. He had agreed that he would back off and wait for her to make her decision. 'Smart move…jackass.'

The ball was in Sharon's court.

"This is going to be a long night," Andy grumbled as he returned his attention to filing aimlessly through the channels on the TV guide.

xXx

"Rusty?" Sharon hurried into the living room, placing her purse on the floor as she took a coat from the hooks by the front door.

"Yeah?" The young man paused the TV and turned his head to see Sharon pulling on her leather jacket in the foyer.

"I'm going out for a while…" She explained as she tugged her hair free of her jacket collar and grabbed her keys from the phone table.

"I can see that." Rusty twisted to rest an arm across the cushions of the couch. "And where might you be going at this late hour?" He asked teasingly, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he took in his foster mothers' casual appearance; to his knowledge, Sharon had never worn jeans to a crime scene.

"Out." Sharon drew out the single syllable, raising her eyebrows to communicate her disapproval at his playful interrogation.

"And, what time will you be back?" Rusty pressed on, a smile twitching at his lips now; he was unable to stifle his amusement at the reversal of their roles.

"Well, if you must know…" Sharon bent to collect her purse from the floor and slung it over her arm as she contemplated her response.

'If I can't even be honest with Rusty about Andy, then really – what is the point?

She eventually conceded with the truth. "I'm going to see Lieut...Andy," she corrected herself. "I'm going to see Andy."

"Oh really?" Rusty shifted to kneel on the couch facing her, a mischievous grin lighting up his face.

"Yes, really." Sharon felt her cheeks warming, but couldn't help but smile at Rusty's response. It was a relief to her that he was taking the Andy situation so well – that said…there was absolutely no way that she was going to let his teasing of her slide…

As she pulled open the front door, she glanced over her shoulder at Rusty - and with smirk she added "so don't wait up."

Sharon smiled to herself as she shut the door on her foster son's horrified expression - yet as she walked towards the elevator, her mirth was quickly replaced with nervous anticipation at the task that lay ahead.

xXx

When the buzzer for Andy's apartment sounded, it startled him out of an unexpected snooze.

He squinted at his watch – it was almost 11pm. "Who in the hell...?" He groused as he begrudgingly pushed himself off of the couch and ambled towards the intercom – but in his dazed state, he misjudged his footing and clipped the corner of the coffee table with his leg.

"Son of a bitch!" Andy stopped his advance temporarily; pausing to rub his wounded kneecap – but the buzzer sounding for the second time called for his attention. "Alright, alright, I'm coming!" He yelled as he hobbled the remainder of the way to the door and yanked the intercom receiver off of its perch.

"Yeah?" He enquired gruffly, his voice, which was still thick with sleep, deftly communicated his annoyance.

"Andy?"

'Sharon?' The smooth tone of Sharon's voice cut through the lieutenants sleep induced haze in an instant; though her unexpected presence at his door appeared to have severed his ability to verbalise an actual response.

"It's Sharon. Can I ah…can I come up for a minute, please?"

"Uh, yeah…" Andy eventually offered in reply. "Yeah - come on up." He pressed the button to release the door, and placed the receiver back on the cradle; the plastic groaning as he released it from his vice-tight grip.

'Sharon's here…' he frowned at the intercom as if it held the answer to his question. 'So what the hell does that mean?'

'Sharon's here – you idiot!' Andy snapped out of his trance and into panic mode as he took in the disorderly state of his living room.

Ordinarily, Andy was very particular about keeping an orderly living space (and car, and desk) - but in light of recent events, he had found himself distracted. Having struggled with the feelings that he was developing for his boss, the lieutenant's usually productive downtime, had now simply become - time spent moping on the couch.

"Shit!" Andy hurried to the table to grab his left over dinner, before retreating to the kitchen – and throwing the lasagne and the plate it sat on, into the trash. He quickly returned to the sitting area to stack magazines and hide varying items under the couch – before he heard a soft knocking at his front door.

Andy stopped what he was doing and backed away from the couch – giving the area a final 'once over' before turning towards the door. After a cleansing breath, he released the lock and pulled the door open.

"Uh…hey," he awkwardly stammered; Andy's ability to offer Sharon anything more 'suave' in greeting was lost the instant that he laid eyes on her. It was a rare treat to see Sharon in anything other than her work attire; even though Andy was very appreciative of how her fitted office suits clung to her svelte frame – he really liked her in jeans.

Conscious of his staring - but not concerned enough divert his eyes right away – his gaze hastily travelled up her denim-encased legs and hips, then over her black leather jacket, to meet her eyes. Although what he saw in Sharon's expression made Andy instantly regret his blatant – albeit brisk – ogling. The Captain was blushing.

"Andy, I'm so sorry – I shouldn't have just dropped by…"

"What?" The Lieutenant frowned, confused by Sharon's sudden U-turn. It was only when he followed her flustered gaze, that he realised he was currently standing in his doorway wearing only a T-shirt and a pair of dark blue silk boxer shorts. Now it was Andy's turn to blush.

"Ah crap." He responded ineloquently – raising a muffled laugh from Sharon. "I was just dozing on the couch - completely forgot to put on my pants." He offered her an apologetic smile. "You want to come inside before one of my neighbours reports me for indecent exposure?"

"Sure," Sharon laughed at the concept, though as Andy stepped aside to allow her entry, she still hovered on the periphery. Before Andy could question her hesitation, she touched her hand to his shoulder, "Andy, you're bleeding."

"I am?" He frowned.

"Your leg," Sharon explained and nodded in the direction of the knee that had collided with the coffee table just moments ago. She was right; the skin was indeed broken and a small trickle of blood was currently working its way over his knee cap and down his shin.

"Oh yeah," he shifted on his feet as he peered down at the injury. "So I am.

"Well, do you have any band aids?" Sharon asked, her eyebrows raised, a bemused smile forming on her lips at his bizarre behaviour.

"Uh, yeah," Andy ushered Sharon in and shut the front door. "In the bathroom; take seat, I'll just go see to it…"

"Oh nonsense," Sharon dismissed him with a wave of her hand, placed her purse on the floor and toed off her heeled boots. "You are the injured party here," she told him with a smile. "Now, where is your bathroom?"

"Down the hall, second door on the left – band-aid's are in the medicine cabinet." He explained as he made his way into the sitting area, careful not the bleed on anything. "Thanks, Sharon."

"Not a problem," she called over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom. "Having raised an accident prone son, I'll have you know that I am an expert in the art of treating boo boos."

"Right," Andy muttered as he scratched his head as he took a seat on the couch; a lot had transpired in the past few minutes - and he was still a little dazed from sleep.

He lifted his leg to rest it on his inanimate aggressor – the coffee table – and as he inspected his injury, Sharon remerged carrying a box of band aids, a bottle of iodine and some cotton balls.

She placed the items she had gathered on the floor, then removed her leather jacket and hung it over the arm of the couch, revealing the plain black tank-top she wore underneath.

"Okay…" she said as she perched across from Andy on the coffee table and looked carefully at the small wound on his leg. "Just a little scrape," she muttered absently, and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Could you bend your leg a bit for me?"

To demonstrate her request, she placed a hand under Andy's leg to help him bend it; her fingers were cool against the sensitive skin at the back of his knee and he felt the stirrings of, what could be quite an inappropriate and embarrassing response to her nursing his wound.

Thankfully, as she wiped over his injury with a cotton ball soaked in iodine, Andy's arousal was quickly banished by the stinging sensation of the antiseptic.

He flinched in response and Sharon rose her gaze to meet his, a playful smile on her lips. "Don't be such a baby."

"What?" He asked incredulously at her scathing look. "It hurts."

"How did you do it?" She enquired as she wiped the blood from his shin.

"Picked a fight with the wrong table." Andy joked, watching her intently as she concentrated on fixing his knee; he couldn't help it - to see her unguarded at such close proximity…it was a rare treat.

"Well, that table certainly won." Sharon glanced up, a lopsided smile on her lips.

"Yeah, I guess so." He continued to watch her, mesmerised as she disposed of the spoiled cotton ball, placed the small blue band aid over the wound and secured it in place. Andy still struggled with the concept that Sharon would even be interested in a guy like him – yet here she was – in his apartment taking care of him.

"There you go," she said with a firm smile as she affectionately patted his other knee. "All done."

"Uh, thanks." Andy cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter – Sharon's touch making him suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was only wearing boxer shorts. "You're not going to kiss it better?" He asked waggling his eyebrows suggestively – feebly using humour in an effort to detract from the effect she was having on him.

"Don't push it, mister." Sharon pursed her lips in mock annoyance, but when Andy reached out to take her hand, her eyes clouded over and her expression turned more serious.

"Sharon?" He questioned her as he dropped his leg from the coffee table and reached out to cup her face in his hand; his heart warmed as instead of pulling away as expected, she leaned into his palm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said unconvincingly.

"You really scared me today, you know that?" Andy ran his thumb soothingly along her cheekbone.

"I know," she smiled softly. "I heard the voicemail you left."

Andy paused his ministrations; unsure of what her admission meant. Sharon seemed to sense his unease and gently removed his hand from her cheek and wrapped it in both of her own – squeezing his fingers reassuringly.

"That's the reason I came over, actually." She explained quietly, her green eyes studying his reaction through her glasses.

"So you didn't just come over just to play Florence Nightingale?"

"I guess not." She spoke softly and cast her gaze down to their entwined hands.

When she didn't elaborate, Andy shifted impatiently on the couch. "So…" he tugged gently at her fingers, causing her to look up at him. "You're going to have to help me out here, Sharon" his eyes pleaded with hers. "I don't want to misinterpret your meaning…"

"Well," Sharon inhaled deeply and shifted sideways so that she now sat directly in front of him. Andy welcomingly widened the space between his knees to accommodate her; his hand never leaving hers. "I've been thinking…"

"You have?" Andy swallowed audibly, his throat suddenly parched.

"I have, yes." she smiled tightly. "Andy, if you are still interested in seeing if this," she raised their conjoined hands and waved them in the space between them "works… "

"I am," Andy answered keenly and edged forward on the couch. "More than anything, Sharon."

"Okay," she chuckled nervously at his eagerness. "…I…I'm just…"

"Scared?" Andy offered, knowingly.

"Terrified," Sharon agreed breathily and seemed to relax slightly. "Andy, I've been by myself for such a long time…" she shrugged. "I'm not even sure if know how to be a couple anymore..."

"Me too," Andy ran his thumb over her knuckles.

"But I almost died today," she said matter of fact. "The prospect of trying this and messing it up – it does scare me…but what happened today made me realise something."

"It did?"

"It made me realise that not ever knowing if this can work…" she paused to nervously lick her lips and Andy found himself leaning in towards her – unconsciously closing the space between them - until her mouth hovered sheer millimetres from his.

"Andy, that scares me more." With her statement hanging in the air between them - it was finally Sharon that made the first move; gently, she took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his.

She felt Andy smiling against her kiss, before his hand rose to the back of her neck and his lips parted. His fingers twisted in her hair as he drew her in; she vacated her perch on the coffee table to join him on the couch – deepening their kiss – lopping her arms around his neck and pulling him towards her.

Andy leant into the kiss, and Sharon allowed his weight to push her back onto the couch – her body savouring the feeling of having another pressed against it – a heat settling in her lower abdomen as she rose her hips to meet his.

Her hands stroked his back through his t-shirt - her fingers finally slipping beneath the fabric as his lips left hers and began a journey along the column of her throat. She smoothed her heated palms up, along his back to grab his shoulders as he continued his assault on her neck.

Sharon had intended for them to take it slowly; it had been such a long time…she had worried about how her body would react – but she needn't have. As Andy's lips moved to graze her collarbone and his strong hands gripped at her hips – she had no intention of slowing things down.

She pushed Andy to a seated position and grabbing fistfuls of his t shirt, she pulled it upwards and over his head; surprising even herself at her assertiveness - Sharon straddled his hips and kissed him again.

"Sharon," Andy uttered between kisses as she raked her fingers through the wiry hair on his chest, dropping her mouth to graze the side of his neck with her teeth. Andy hissed in response and grabbed at her behind – pulling her centre against his straining erection – causing her to moan against his mouth.

Andy's mind was still playing catch-up with his body; he had not been expected this. He had prepared himself for a more tentative approach, had assumed that things would move slowly...

"Sharon?"

Sharon heard Andy say her name again and she rocked her hips against his, quickly finding his lips with hers to silence the question she knew was about to be voiced.

'He wants to know if I'm okay. He wants to know if I'm sure…'

Sharon knew what she wanted - what she needed - but if they stopped to question their actions…if they let doubt seep in…she was afraid to take that pause.

"Sharon," Andy spoke more firmly this time and took her face in his hands – forcing her to look at him – but to Sharon's surprise, his brown eyes, darkened with desire, only made her want him more.

"Andy, I want this," she reassured him, turning her head to place a kiss to his palm. "But not on your couch." She said with a smile, raising to stand before him, her hair mussed, her lips swollen and skin flushed. "Take me to bed?"

Andy got to his feet in one swift motion and caught her lips with his. He pulled her to him – running his hands down her sides and back up again – bringing with them the hem of her black tank top – the fabric bunching at her breasts.

Sharon removed her glasses, placing them on the coffee table, before raising her arms to allow him to pull the garment up and over her head.

Having discarded of the item of clothing behind them, Andy's hands wandered into the back pockets of Sharon's jeans. He pulled her flush against him for a bruising kiss, relishing in the feeling of her bra encased breasts pressing against his bare chest.

Without releasing her from is clutches, Andy started to manoeuvre them towards his bedroom and Sharon allowed him to take the lead; moaning when her back found a wall and his eager hands found her lace covered breasts.

He cupped their weight in his hands whilst the tip of his tongue made the journey along her neck and down to the curve of one breast. Sharon treaded her hands through his hair as he drew the purple straps down her arms and tugged the cups of lace from her skin – exposing her nipples to the cool air and to Andy's warm breath.

"You're beautiful," he muttered as he stooped to take one pink nipple into his mouth – his teeth grazing the sensitive tip – before switching to continue his assault on the other breast.

"Andy," Sharon spoke his name breathlessly, grabbing at his shoulders "bed…"

Andy raised his head and placed his lips next to her near ear, his warm breath on her neck causing her to shiver.

"Bed?" He rumbled and she could feel his smug grin against her flesh as he moved his leg between her thighs and she whimpered at the delicious friction the movement created – but it still wasn't enough.

"Bed," she affirmed breathily "now."

"Yes ma'am," Andy drawled – all too happy to comply. In one, perfectly executed manoeuvre – the Lieutenant hoisted his Captain off the floor – and carried her over the threshold to his bedroom.

xXx

The sun was coming up when Andy stirred; the unfamiliar feeling of movement on the mattress disturbed his post-coital slumber. Laying on his front, he blindly stretched an arm out – expecting to find Sharon's warm body next to him; yet instead he found nothing.

Confused, he twisted onto his back, to find Sharon dressing by his window; the dim light filtering through the blinds forming a pattern across her pale skin.

"Sharon?"

"Sorry," She turned to look at him, smiling apologetically as she pulled the zipper up on her jeans and secured the button. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"That's okay," he dragged himself up to rest against the pillows, the white bed sheets tangled around his legs. "You're leaving?"

"I have to get home," she moved around to his side of the bed. "Work starts in a few hours and I need to get a change of clothes."

"Why?" Andy smirked, running his eyes over her body, clad only in a pair of jeans and a purple bra. "I like this look."

"Hmmm," Sharon bent one knee and knelt on the mattress. "I bet you do," she leant down towards him. "Speaking of which," she muttered against his lips. "Where are the rest of my clothes?"

"I'll never tell." He joked as he cupped her cheek and pulled her down for a kiss.

Sharon placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled away – looking down at him with her eyebrow arched in disapproval.

"Your jacket and boots are by the couch," he finally submitted with an eye roll. "And I think I saw your black top on the coffee table…"

"Thank you," she smiled sweetly at him and placed a solitary kiss to his lips, before getting back to her feet and heading in to the living room to retrieve her things.

"So…" Andy climbed out of bed and hunted around for some pants – instead settling on his dark-grey towelling robe that hung on the back of the bedroom door. "Do you think we need to speak to Taylor right away? Tell him about this or…?"

"Or what?" Sharon reappeared in the doorway, tugging the fabric of her top down over her torso. "I was thinking about telling him today," she said simply. "Why?" Her eyes clouded over with concern and her hands retreated to her jean pockets. "Do you think we should wait?"

"What?" Andy frowned. "No, Sharon," he reached out and pulled her to him. "That's not why I asked - look," he lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "I just wondered…I am completely on board with telling Taylor."

"You're sure?" She placed her hands on his hips. "Because I just think that we stand a much better chance of getting a positive response from Taylor if we…"

"Follow the rules?"

Sharon paused and looked up at Andy, her mouth slightly agape.

"Now, how did I know you were going to say that?" Andy said with a smirk and pulled her closer to him - leaning in to steal another kiss.

"Hmmm," Sharon narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I wonder…" she chuckled as she tilted her face up towards Andy's and allowed him to capture her lips with his own…

'You'll Get Yours, Bitch.'

Receiving that simple, yet harrowing message had started Sharon on a journey. It had been a twisted and painful passage but it ultimately and unexpectedly had delivered her to that very moment. And as she stood, safe in the arms of the man she could truly envisage spending the rest of her life with, Sharon realised that maybe the message was right.

Maybe she did in fact 'get hers' after all.

The End.

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it :). Please review - I'd love to hear your thoughts. Did you guess who the killer was before the reveal?


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